Waiting Just For You
by Far Away In Wonderland
Summary: Having been stood up by Scottie Harvey Specter gets saved from being thrown out of the restaurant by one Michael James Ross. But that's not the end of this story - it's just the beginning. AU. Slash.
1. Let Me Introduce Myself

"Sir, are you sure you don´t want to order anything?" The waitress was back, staring at him with a mixture of pity and annoyance. Probably because he has been occupying their best table for already fifty minutes and still hadn't finished his first glass of water.

"No," Harvey replied. "I´m waiting for someone." The waitress looked at him doubtfully but he had paid for this reservation and there was nothing she could do – at least until the one hour mark was reached. So she just nodded at him and went back to serve an older couple at some other table.

Harvey looked at his watch. Fifty-one minutes and thirty-three seconds and still no signs of Scottie. Where was the she? He had made Senior Partner at Pearson & Hardman today, something he wanted to celebrate with the woman that was his most stable relationship that he currently had in his life – apart from Donna.

They weren't _in_ a relationship – Harvey shuddered at that thought – but they had _a_ relationship: They were rivals, one-night-stands and sometimes they were friends, of which Harvey had only a precious few. It stung that she apparently had stood him up. He had thought that he meant a little more to her; that she viewed him as more than an outlet for her sexual frustration. Now Harvey knew that he had been wrong.

He took his cell phone out of his pocket. The first few tries Harvey hadn't been able to reach Scottie, but maybe this time she would take his call. He dialed her number and waited.

"What do you want, Harvey?" was how Scottie greeted him.

"I want to know where the hell you are, because you definitely aren't with me," Harvey replied venomously.

"I´m with Krueger," Scottie replied. "He´s going to haul in a big client and if I help him I´ll get thirty per cent of it. Didn't have the time to tell you." Harvey could imagine the bored expression that went with that explanation.

"So you stood me up for Krueger?" he asked incredulously.

"No need to get so aggressive," Scottie shot back. "If I have to choose between business and pleasure, it´s business I go with. You would have done the same."

"No, I wouldn´t," Harvey seethed. "When you asked me for help last month I let Louis take a case which made the firm – and by extension him – a shitload of money so that I could help you."

"Look, Harvey," Scottie started and Harvey hated the patronizing tone she was using. "We both know how this all here works. It´s not my fault that you seem to think that you have the privilege to step out of the whole system to have dinner and ignore everything else because you´re Jessica´s golden boy. Not everyone is already Senior Partner after three years. I don't have that luxury; I have to get my successes whenever I can and if I have to stand you up to get my promotion, then I´ll do it." Suddenly the voices were muted. Scottie probably covered the ear-piece to talk to someone.

"I have to hang up, Harvey, Krueger is about to close the deal," Scottie said when she was back on the phone and before Harvey had to chance to interject the connection was already closed, leaving behind a dumbstruck Harvey.

"Sir," Harvey looked up to see the waitress standing at his table, next to her an older man who was probably the maître of the restaurant. "As you haven't ordered anything in over an hour we would ask you to either order something or vacate the table so that another of our waiting guests can take it." With a defeated sigh Harvey pocketed his phone and stood up.

"Wait!" Harvey turned around only to see a young man walking towards his table, his suits cheap but still good-looking on his frame and a hideous skinny tie around his neck.

"Sorry that I´m late, honey," the man said. "But the car broke down, so I had to take the subway." Before Harvey could even comprehend what was going on, the stranger hugged him.

"Just play along, okay?" he whispered in Harvey´s ear and the older man, recognizing what the blonde was planning, nodded.

"No problem," Harvey replied with a forced smile. "At least you are here now." He turned towards the waitress and the maître. "Can we order now?" The former just nodded dumbfounded while the maître gave Harvey a nearly incognisable smirk.

"Care to tell me why you did that?" Harvey asked after each of them had ordered. Now, that the chaos had abated he could take in the man opposite of him without any distraction. His blonde hair looked like it had been orderly at some point, but now it looked like the man had directly come from a long round of breath-taking sex. His eyes were of a clear, blue colour and the way they looked at Harvey somehow reminded him of a puppy: full of trust, honesty and warmth. The stranger´s lips were curled into a little smile.

"And a name would be great as well," Harvey added.

"Name´s Ross. Mike Ross," the blonde said, flashing Harvey a smile. "And I saw how you were about to be forced to leave. From the way it appeared from the outside it looked like you had been stood up by someone and no one deserves to have his day end like that – especially on such a great day as today." Mike was so full of enthusiasm that Harvey couldn't help but feel lighter as well.

"And if I had refused you?" Harvey inquired. The waitress came back and served them the wine they had ordered.

"Then I´d have simply continued on," Mike answered. "There´s nothing that can ruin this day for me."

"Why´s that?" Harvey asked. The least he could do for the guy that had saved him from the embarrassment of being evicted from a restaurant was pretending to be interested in him.

"I made Senior Associate in the law firm I´m working in today," Mike told him with pride. Now Harvey´s interest was definitely roused. "And seeing that I´m already on partner track it won´t take me much time to make Junior Partner as well."

"You barely look twenty-four," Harvey commented. "How did you make it to Senior Associate already?"

"Hey," Mike exclaimed. "I´ll have you know that I´m twenty-seven! And I got the job because I kick ass at court."

"Still, that isn't much time," Harvey said skeptical.

"You have experience with the inner workings of law firms?" Mike asked with raised eyebrows.

"I made Senior Partner at Pearson & Hardman today," Harvey replied. Well, theoretically Jessica still had to sign off the order and it only happened a few hours ago, but Mike didn't need to know that.

"Wow," Mike commented, awed. "That´s awesome, dude! Seems like we both have something worth celebrating!"

"Don't call me dude," Harvey shot back without thinking. It was an ingrained habit. Mike just lifted his hands in a gesture of mock-surrender.

"That still leaves the question why you made it to Senior Associate after such a short time," Harvey mused.

"What if I told you I consume knowledge like no one you´ve ever met?" Mike boasted.

"I´d say you´re full of crap," Harvey shot back without missing a beat.

"Ask me something. Anything."

"Civil liability associated with agency is based on several factors, including-" Harvey began, remembering the passage from the BarBri Legal Handbook because he had forced his current associate to copy it by hand for messing up filing a patent.

"Including the deviation of the agent from his path, the reasonable interference of agency on behalf of the plaintiff and the nature of the damages themselves," Mike finished the sentence.

"How did you know that?" Harvey asked shocked.

"I learned it," Mike answered cheekily.

"Okay, hotshot," Harvey said, having more fun than he could ever remember having during a diner. "I´m gonna show you what a Harvard attorney can do. Pick a topic."

"Stock option backdating."

"Although backdating options is legal, violations arose related to disclosures under RIC section 409A," Harvey recited.

"You forgot about Sarbanes-Oxley," Mike commented.

"The statute of limitations render Sarbanes-Oxley mute post-2007," Harvey replied.

"Well, not if you can find actions to cover up the violation as established in the Sixth Circuit May 2008." Harvey was impressed. That wasn't something every lawyer knew. Hell, half of the Partners at Pearson & Hardman probably didn't know it.

"I´m impressed," Harvey admitted. This Mike Ross was interesting and could keep up with him, no traits Harvey found very often in others.

"Oh, I´m impressed as well," Mike replied, eyeing Harvey all over.

"Then we should make sure that this evening continues that way," Harvey said and held up his glass. Mike followed suit and they both clinked glasses. Maybe it hadn't been that bad that Scottie had stood him up, Harvey thought.

* * *

Dana "Scottie" Scott entered the floor of PH ready to conquer the world and looking fabulous while doing it.

No strand of hair that wasn't where it should belong, red lipstick that made her full lips look even more kissable, a blouse that empathized exactly the right spots and concealed the wrong ones and high-heels that just screamed 'Watch out, this bitch is ready to slay!'. Men sidestepped her only to stare at her backside after she had passed them by and the women behind the reception gave her a short nod of admiration.

Yes, right now Scottie was on the top of the world and she had no intention of vacating that spot anytime soon. 30 percent of the client she had helped Krueger to haul in yesterday brought her nearer to the Senior Partner post she desired so desperately. Harvey may have been faster than her – no surprise there – but Scottie would rather gouge her eyes out with her own high-heels than allow Louis Litt to become Senior Partner before her.

Speaking of the devil, how did the man always manage to appear when someone thought of him?

"Scottie," he sneered, which made his rat-like face look even more unappealing, a feat Scottie never thought he could pull off.

"Louis," Scottie sneered back. "Only people above me or of equal intellect to me are allowed to call me that." She gave him her fakest smile. "And you are neither of those." If Louis was a comic figure, grey steam would now rise out of his ears, but he wasn't, so Scottie had to be satisfied with him gaping at her like a goldfish on land.

"Seeing that there isn´t much time left until Jessica recognizes my talents and promotes me I should start talking to you like the inferior you´ll soon be," Louis shouted back after he regained his composure. Scottie just rolled her eyes at the shorter man.

"Look Louis," she started patronizingly. "As much fun as it is to verbally spar with you –" _no, it really wasn't_ "– I have actual work to do, work that will see me to a Senior Partner Post faster than your cat can flee your desperate grip. So, see you later!" Then she turned around and walked away.

"Bruno would never flee from my loving embrace," Scottie heard Louis shouting after her, but she paid him no attention. Instead she made her way to Harvey´s office.

Scottie wasn't really sorry that she had stood him up yesterday. The world of corporate law was hard and you had to use every chance that presented itself to you, lest you ended somewhere in Wyoming, arbitrating disputes between farmers. Nobody that worked in a prestigious firm like PH had made it so far by putting his own ambition on the backburner. Not even Harvey. And Scottie would never apologize for following her ambitions. Not even to Harvey.

But Harvey was her ally and you didn't keep allies by shunning them. So she would offer him another date as compensation. Maybe she would throw in a fuck as well, after all Harvey probably didn't get laid yesterday.

When Donna saw her coming her gaze immediately hardened. She and Scottie had never gotten along very well. Something about Scottie using Harvey only to further her own ambitions. Scottie had just scoffed at that. She and Harvey had used each other since undergrad in Harvard, mainly for sex and having someone else who could keep up with the other. Beside the addition of inter-firm politics their relationship – if you could call it that – their relationship hadn't changed since then.

"Scottie," Donna greeted her coldly. "Now you have time for him?" And of course Donna would knew what happened yesterday. That woman always knew what was going on and no one had a clue how she did it. Nevertheless, Scottie wouldn't justify herself to Donna of all people who carried a torch for Harvey bigger than the Empire State Building. She wasn't that insecure.

"Is he there?" she ignored Donna´s remark completely. The red-head just nodded tensely. Scottie knew how much she wanted to just deny her entry, but Harvey had put his foot down on that after the one time she actually did. It was one of Scottie´s most glorious memories. Without wasting another second on Donna she entered Harvey´s office.

The man sat behind his desk, his jacket hanging over the back of his chair, which absence only brought out his well-toned figure underneath the vest and the shirt. Scottie had to give praise where it´s due: Harvey was the best looking lawyer on the floors of PH.

"Hi, loser," Scottie exclaimed. Harvey looked up from the papers he was reading and regarded her with a cool gaze.

"What do you want?" he asked annoyed.

"You and me, going to that new restaurant on the Upper Eastside," Scottie replied. "And afterwards we have some great victory sex on your kitchen counter because, _damn_ , I´ll be Senior Partner faster than you can look with the speed I bring in new clients."

"No," Harvey answered short-clipped. Scottie´s jaw dropped.

"What do you mean 'no'?" she demanded to know. Harvey never said no when she asked for a date or sex. She was exactly the 'no strings attached' person he preferred.

"I already have a date for today," Harvey answered.

"You have a date?" Scottie asked incredulously. "Harvey 'I don't care' Specter has a date? Who´s the lucky woman who´ll be booted out of your bed tomorrow morning before she´s even awake?" She could see that she was getting at Harvey by the way he grinded his jaws.

" _He_ is a nice young man who saved me from losing face after you stood me up yesterday," Harvey replied.

"Wait, wait, wait," Scottie interrupted. " _He_? Come on, Harvey, you can´t be that mad at me that you´d invent a guy just so that you could blow me off when I asked you for another round." Of course Scottie knew that Harvey was bi, but she had seen him with a men maybe twice and had always assumed that he was more comfortable with women.

"His name is Mike Ross, he´s Senior Associate at Cadbury & Wakefield, he actually can keep up with me, something I know because I spent the last evening with him instead of you" Harvey said tensely. Scottie was floored.

"Wow," she replied. "He must be great in bed if you take him for another round." Obviously that was the wrong thing to say.

"Get out!" Harvey shouted. "Before I make you!" Seeing the warning signs of an immediate Harvey eruption, Scottie complied and swiftly walked out of the office, her cheeks burning with humiliation. Knowing Donna the story would circulate in the office within the next five minutes.

Scottie would get back at them. At them and Mike Ross for humiliating her like that. She would play second fiddle to no one.

Where was Louis when you needed someone to take down verbally in order to reduce some anger?


	2. Is It Fate Or Happenstance?

The key clicked inside the lock and the door to Scottie´s apartment opened. It didn't feel a lot like coming home.

Carelessly Scottie threw her key into a bowel that stood on the drawer beside her door and discarded her coat. She switched on the light and watched as the hallways was illuminated by the sterile white light. She hadn't bothered to replace the light bulbs with ones with warmer lights.

This apartment was only one stop of many until she could afford something better. Her dad had purchased it for her when she made Senior Associate and had used up all his savings in order to be able to afford it. Scottie appreciated it, but she was Junior Partner and would soon make it to Senior Partner, thus she needed something more appropriate for her station. Until then she would use the money she didn't need to spend for rent to pay her father´s medical bills.

Scottie looked at the pile of papers that were lying on the kitchen tables which she knew were another round of bills and sighed. She didn't know how Harvey was able to afford his condo, his car clubs and the expensive restaurants he was always taking his dates to on his Junior Partner salary. Even if Scottie didn't need to pay all those monthly bills she wouldn't have enough money for all those luxuries.

She was still angry that Harvey had just ended their – _not relationship_ – agreement just for some other man. Maybe she didn't want it to confess it even to herself, but Scottie found a lot of confidence in the fact that it was she to whom Harvey always returned to when he had enough of his other flings. She knew that it was unhealthy – no woman should draw her self-respect from others – but the thrill and endorphins that coursed through her when she knew that she had again prevailed against some other woman always send her on a new high.

And Scottie had always assumed that she – as strong, independent, successful woman – would end things with Harvey. That Harvey got the drop on her was a hard blow against her pride. Everyone in the office would either pity her or overflow with glee that she had been the one who had been on the receiving end of a break-up. Harvey would regret that!

The ringing of her phone tore Scottie out of her sinister thoughts. She looked on the screen and saw the number of the clinic her dad was in appearing. They never called but for the monthly updates on her father´s health. Filled with trepidation Scottie took the call.

"Dana Scott speaking."

"Ms. Scott?" the voice from the other end spoke. "It´s Dr. Hendriks from Rose Medical Center in Denver. I´m very sorry to tell you that your father passed away in his sleep last night…"

 _passed away in his sleep last night_

 _passed away in his sleep_

 _passed away_

 _passed_

Dr. Hendriks continued talking, but Scottie couldn't hear him anymore. Empty words of condolence, of pity, she didn't want to hear. Her phone glided out of her hand and shattered on the ground, the sound echoing through her flat like a gunshot. Slowly Scottie sank to the ground, her gaze unfocused and her hand coiled as if she was still holding her phone.

 _Her father was dead._

She would never have the chance to talk to him again. To see him smile, to see that mischievous glint in his eyes when he told her how he´d flirted with the nurses on the station. She would never again rant at him about Harvey Specter and Louis Litt and never see the proud expression on his face when she would tell him of how far she had made it.

 _Her father was dead._

Scottie barely felt the tear that was running down her cheek and the others that followed soon after. She was too numb to care, the disbelief within her wrestling with all those other feeling that slowly emerged to take her over.

 _Her father was dead._

"Argh!" she screamed and threw one of the nearby glasses against the wall. It shattered into hundreds of pieces that slowly fell down on the ground. The prognosis had been great, the doctors had said, they even planned to take her dad off his medications. How could they have let him die? How could they?

 _Her father was dead._

But the worst of it all was that Scottie hadn't been there. Her father had died alone in a sterile hospital room without the daughter he had raised. He had died not knowing all the things that were now making their way on the forefront of Scottie´s mind. And all of it was her fault.

 _Her father was dead._

She couldn't stay here. The space around her was suddenly too small, the air suffocating her and the white light seemed to taunt her with its cleanness. The shadows all around the flat had become so menacing, stretching out to cling onto her. The silence was too loud. She couldn't hear – _couldn't think, couldn't feel_ – anymore. She needed to get away from this silent reminder of what her dad had sacrificed for her.

Slowly Scottie picked herself up from the ground and staggered to the door. She barely remembered to pick up her key before she fled her apartment.

* * *

Scottie didn't know how long she had been walking – it could have been just minutes or several hours, she didn't really care – but during her escape all the despair, grief and rage within her had slowly turned into bone-deep exhaustion. It was like she had used up all the energy she had and now she had trouble setting one foot in front of the other.

Scottie looked around. In her desire to escape the confinement of her perfect empty apartment she had paid no attention to where she was going. She hadn't cared back then. The world was an ugly, monstrous place full of selfish people and pain, so why did it matter where she was going? The sky was grey everywhere, the people´s gaze harsh and cold no matter if you were in Manhattan or the Bronx and you couldn't run from hurt that had buried itself deep inside your heart. There were no streets that could help her escape the pain. Each of them just led back to the beginning.

Scottie took a deep breath and felt the fresh air cursing through her lungs. It tasted cleaner – _purer_ – than amidst the towering skyscrapers of Manhattan, even though it couldn't hold a candle to the air around the vacation home in the Rocky Mountains her father had always taken her to. Scottie remembered the smell of grass, elder and pines; the sound of the wind rustling through the leaves and the gurgling of the crystal clear water in the small stream not so far from the house.

The memories, once a source of happiness and joy, now only brought pain with them as Scottie remembered the laughs of her father that had rang over the clearing. How he took her younger self at her hand and explored the forest with her, patiently explaining every plant and its function in the forests ecosystem to an enraptured little girl for whom her father was the centre of the world. All gone now.

The pain suddenly became too much – too intense, _overwhelming_ – and Scottie had to sit down on one of the stairs leading up to the buildings behind her. The people continued to pass by her, not bothering to even look at her as they made their way down the street and it made Scottie furious. How dare they ignore her and her pain? How dare they to smile, to be happy, to continue their lives as if nothing had happened? Didn't they notice that everything was wrong? That the world they had gone to bed in yesterday wasn't the same as the one they did wake up to today? Scottie wanted to scream and to rage at them, just to feel something other than grief, but she was too tired to do anything. If they couldn't bother why should she?

So Scottie just sat there on the stairs, watching people and cars pass by, until her feet were numb and her hands so cold that she couldn't feel them anymore. She looked at her hands – those elegant, slender and perfect manicured things – like they were something foreign. Like they did not belong to her body. What a peculiar feeling. She should tell Harvey about it.

But then Scottie remembered that Harvey had cast her aside for someone else and the realisation that she was _alone_ – alone in a city of millions – threatened to overwhelm and consume her. Her hands began to shake as it dawned her that without her father there was no one left that would defend her unconditionally. She had to fight for herself now, because no one else would.

"Excuse me, Miss?" Scottie was torn out of her reverie by a hesitant male voice. She looked up to see a young man standing in front of her. His blond hair was dishevelled as if he just came out of a storm, he wore a stylish skinny tie to his expensive blue suit and his sky-blue eyes looked at her with worry.

"Are you alright?" the man asked and Scottie snorted.

"Do I look like I´m alright?" she shot back and the man flinched. A wave of guilt washed over Scottie. The man was just trying to do what he thought would help, there was no need for her to be that nasty.

"Sorry," she apologized. "Today´s been…difficult." The man nodded and to Scottie´s surprise sat down right beside her.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked and Scottie looked at him incredulously.

"Why would I talk about it with a complete stranger?" she demanded to know. The man just shrugged.

"I don't know," he confessed. "But it´s a classic trope in several books and movies, isn´t it? Meeting a stranger who listens to your worries and spouts some piece of wisdom which helps the other person to find the resolution for a problem of his or hers." He grinned at her, which made him look even younger, but not in a negative sense. He had a boyish sort of charm, Scottie thought.

"Are you wise then?" she inquired.

"I´m twenty-seven," the man chuckled. "I think you have to have at least a few strands of grey hair and an eccentric hobby in order to be wise." After that silence descended upon them. It wasn't awkward or forced like those moments when you ran out of topics to discuss. To Scottie it was somehow soothing to just sit there with this strange man who just decided to sit there with her without demanding something in return. Who would listen to her without her having to worry about possible repercussions. Scottie couldn't remember the last time something like that had happened.

"My father died today," she said after a while, ending the silence with her words that sounded so loud to her own ears. "I got the call today." It was so difficult saying it out loud. It was childish, Scottie knew that, but it was less real as long as she wasn't forced to say it. The words leaving her mouth made her father´s death real – _tangible_ – and she couldn't take them back. Now the stranger knew and soon others would know as well and then her father´s death would be a fact that she couldn't escape anymore. "He was the only family I had left. My mother left us when I was five and he raised me alone. And now he´s gone." She swallowed as tears threatened to spill.

"I won´t bother with condolences," the man replied. "Because I know that the last thing you want is pity from someone who can just turn his back at your misery, go home and leave you behind with your grief." The man took a deep breath. "And I won´t tell you that the pain will fade away, because that´s utter bullshit. The pain won´t go away. Never. You just learn to live with it. You build a cage around it and banish it back into the darkest corners of your mind, so that on most days you can forget that it exist. But on some days the pain will break free and you have to fight it back again."

"But there´s one thing I can promise," the man continued and looked at her. "I can promise that you´ll be happy again. One day – not tomorrow, the next week or in a month – but one day you´ll have made so much new happy memories that you can think of him and smile."

"You sound as if you had experience with that," Scottie inquired carefully.

"My parents died in a car crash when I was eleven," the man explained. Scottie didn't say anything at first. The blonde had probably heard all variation of 'I´m sorry' and hated them with the same passion that she would if she was in his situation.

"That sucks," she replied.

"You´re the first one to word it like that," the man said with a dry laugh. "But it´s in the past. I had my grandmother and great friends who helped me deal with it. And now I live a life that my parents would be proud of. Would your father be proud of what you achieved?" Scottie thought about it. About her father who fought the whole neighbourhood for her so that she could join the boys' soccer team because there hadn't been one for girls in a radius of several miles; about her father who didn't even blinked when she joined both the cheerleaders and the debate team in High School and supported each equally; about the father who created mock test after mock test when she was studying in Harvard because they couldn't afford the expensive booklets; about the man who cried unabashedly when she finally graduated and spent every single dollar he could on her so that his daughter would have no disadvantage in the world of legacies, corporate heirs and trust-fund-babies.

"He would," Scottie said. "He was." She felt lighter after that realisation. Her father had always been proud of her, but having it spelled out by a stranger made it even more obvious. Maybe Scottie had needed that. Had needed that certainty. She turned towards the stranger.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, not suspicious but curious. Scottie would have never spoken to a complete stranger simply because he looked like he needed it. What had driven the man to do it, though?

"Talk to you? Wanting to help you?" the man replied and Scottie nodded. "Because I can´t simply walk past a person who looks like she needs help. That's not who I am. And maybe it´s idealistic and naïve, but it´s something that I chose to do and I won´t give that up."

"Did it help at least?" the man asked.

"I think it did," Scottie replied lost in thought. "Only time will tell."

"By the way, my name is Mike," the man introduced himself. "I think I forgot to mention that." He scratched the back of his head in embarrassment and looked at her coyly. It was somehow adorable and a faint smile appeared on Scottie´s face.

"Dana," she introduced herself as well.

"Will you find the way back to your home by yourself?" Mike asked. "You looked like you were lost before."

"It would be appreciated if you could show me the way to the next subway station," Scottie conceded. No way she would walk all the way back.

"Well, Dana," Mike leapt up from where he was sitting and made an excessive bow towards here. "It´d be an honour to chaperone a lady as beautiful as you." He held out his hand.

"Such a charmer," Scottie replied and took it.

"But totally innocent," Mike added as they made their way down the road. "My admiration for the fair sex is purely intellectual." Scottie led out a breath of relief. She had already readied herself to refuse Mike´s advances, but apparently that wasn't needed.

"Mine as well," Scottie joked and Mike cracked a smile at her.

* * *

"Here you go: a subway station," Mike said and pointed at the sign at the end of the road they had just entered. "I take you´ll find your way from here? I have a date in an hour I want to go on."

"I will," Scottie confirmed. She hesitated for a moment, then turned back towards Mike.

"Mike," she said. "Thank you." There was no need to say more. Scottie could see in Mike´s eyes that he understood what she wasn't saying. Thank you for being there; for talking to me; for preventing me from doing something stupid. Mike just nodded.

"If you ever need some stranger to talk to, just call me," he said hesitantly and offered her a small piece of paper on which a barely legible number was written. Scottie smiled and Mike visibly relayed.

"Do you offer your number to every stranger you meet on the street?" Scottie asked jokingly.

"I made half of my friends that way," Mike replied with a grin. "I have contacts all over the city."

"You´re one of a kind," Scottie said fondly and pocketed the number in her pocket. "Bye, Mike."

"Take care of yourself, Dana," Mike replied. Then she turned around and made her way to the subway station, wind wafting through her hair and a small smile on her face.

* * *

The key clicked inside the lock and the door to Scottie´s apartment opened. It felt a lot more like coming home now.

Carelessly Scottie threw her key into a bowel that stood on the drawer beside her door. She switched on the light and watched as the hallways was illuminated by the sterile white light. She would replace them tomorrow.

"I´m home," she whispered.


	3. Are You Ready For The World?

Mike Ross woke up happy.

He didn't open his eyes immediately. He just laid there in his bed, his breathing even, and let the atmosphere of the room soak through him. The near silence that was only interrupted by cars that would pass by under his window every now and then; the warmth that had made him discard his blanket during the night and was now lulling him in and the warmish yellow sunlight that shone through his closed eyelids.

After a while Mike opened his eyes and stared at the white ceiling. Yesterday had been an eventful evening. First there had been this woman – Dana – he had talked with. Mike hadn't lied to her when he confessed that he had a habit of talking to strangers that looked like they needed someone who would listen to them. For example there was Maria, the building´s cleaning lady who he helped fighting the deportation order that would have seen her sent back to Nicaragua where her family lived in poverty with her as only source of significant income.

Since then his floor was always extra clean and once a month Maria would clean his apartment for him as gesture of gratitude. Mike would always protest – he hadn't helped her expecting something in return – but try talking something out of a woman who was used to several nephews, nieces and siblings trying to make her do what they wanted.

So when Mike had seen Dana sitting on the stairs, completely out of place in her tailored clothing and with her manicured hands, looking completely desolated, he just couldn't walk by. The picture of her would have haunted him for days if he had taken the cowardly route out. So he sat down and let her dictate the pace of their talk. He had learned long ago that pestering someone who didn't want to talk was not the way to go. It would only make them close themselves off faster.

Mike´s heart had ached for her when she told him about her father´s death. Mike knew the pain of losing one´s parents. He had lived through it when he had been eleven after all. But it didn't matter how old you were, losing someone you loved so dearly would always feel like the world had ended. Thus Mike hadn't given her his useless condolences.

Oh, how he had hated them back when he was still a child. How people who hadn't really known his parents would walk up to him, pet his hair or squeeze his cheek and tell him how sorry they were. They could simply drive home, back to their families and pretend that nothing happened while he had to go back into a house bereft of his parents, accompanied only by his grieving Grammy. So Mike hadn't said something like that to Dana.

Mike didn't really know why he had given her his number. Maybe it was because Dana looked like she was lonely. He could read people and he saw a good-looking, intelligent and ambitious woman who probably had a job where people termed each other 'allies', 'threats' and 'competition'. Not really an environment where lasting friendships were forged. Mike should know, he worked at Cadbury & Wakefield and out of the dozen of associates he had only two people he would call friends.

Dana could have thrown his number into the next garbage bin or already forgotten in existence. Or maybe she would call him one day and they would simply talk. Only time would tell, but Mike was looking forward to it.

With a smile Mike pushed himself up and sat on the edge of his bed. The other thing that happened yesterday was his second date with Harvey. The man was truly an enigma: attractive, charismatic, cunning, ambitious, but also ethical, caring and funny. Mike hadn't met many people who could match his sarcasm and his movie quotes, but Harvey managed both.

Mike was completely fine with simply letting himself be swept away by the currents, seeing where his kindling romance with Harvey would led to.

But now he had to make himself ready for the day.

* * *

Harvey Specter woke up thoughtful.

He didn't waste any time with staying in bed. He had people to meet, cases to win, money to make and Louis to harass. All things that didn't do themselves alone. There was no use in lying in bed and daydreaming when the real world was waiting outside, ready to be conquered by those who were ambitious enough.

Yet as he stood in front of his bedroom mirror and tied his tie – never a skinny one, _never_ – he couldn't help but letting his mind wander back to the evening before, or rather to the person he had spent the evening with.

Harvey Specter didn't do relationships. That was something everyone that knew him could agree on. He had one-night stands, flings, friends with benefits and Scottie, but he never had a relationship that deserved that name. It suited him better that way. Relationships required commitment, trust and loyalty and Harvey didn't have much of the former two to give. The lesson his mother had taught him still had their effects on him.

Harvey couldn't imagine having another person in his life with whom he had to share everything. Who would invade his space with their belongings, who would want his attention when he simply wanted to be left alone, who he would have to take into consideration with every decision he had to make. A relationship would just restrict his freedom. He would have another person he would have to answer to. And Harvey valued his independence too much to give it up for anyone.

Relationships didn't last either. That was another lesson his environment had taught Harvey. His parents had seemed like the perfect couple – dedicated to each other, loving, compromising – until he found out that these things didn't apply to his mother. No matter where he looked, there was always a person who just had come out of a relationship and it was pathetic. The sobbing, the desperate phone calls, the begging and the morose mood that they brought everywhere they went. Harvey was aghast by all that and had long vowed to himself that he would never sink so low as to allow another person to have that kind of power over him. The only person Harvey Specter belonged to was himself and not some other.

But now Harvey doubted all those resolutions that had been part of his very being since he had been a young adult. When he looked at Mike there was this nagging voice in the back of his mind that urged him to make the leap – to take the risk – and simply explore what he could have with the younger man. There was this warm feeling that rushed through his body every time Mike looked at him with those sky-blue eyes of him, so full of warmth and mirth.

It was ridiculous, Harvey thought, he behaved like a teenage girl with its first crush on the captain of the football team. Yet he couldn't help but smile every time Mike send him a message that was both senseless and funny. He couldn't help but feel nervous every the second time they met and simultaneously so giddily happy when Mike finally appeared. It was like his body was pulled in thousand different directions and he wanted nothing but see where it would take him.

Harvey looked into the mirror. Staring back at him was the suave, charming and attractive lawyer who people wanted to have on their case and who the opposing council feared. It was the picture of himself that he projected into the world to make them think twice before trying to screw him over. It was his armour behind which he hid all those aspects of him that had no place in the cutthroat world that he navigated every day. It was the Casanova that flirted with everyone, had sex with women he didn't know and drove cars he didn't own.

Harvey stared at his reflection and thought that maybe Mike was worth taking that armour off, was worth showing the true Harvey Specter. He needed to think about that. No matter how emotional he was right now, he wouldn't take any risks without deliberating about it a great deal.

But now he was ready for the day.

* * *

Dana Scott didn't wake up at all.

She wasn't happy and neither was she thoughtful. She just sat there at her kitchen table and stared out of the window in front of her like she had for the whole night. The sun was just rising and dipped the skyline of New York in red and orange light, making it look like she was looking at a painting and not at a real city. The glass windows reflected the light and made it look like thousand sequins hung from the sky.

People said New York never slept and that was certainly true, but to Scottie it had always been dawn when the city was the most silent. Tourist had yet to leave their hotel rooms, the night shifts hadn't ended yet and the majority of people were still at home readying themselves for the day that was announced by the ray of lights that shone over the city.

If it was a normal day like any other Scottie would be amongst the thousand that were now heading out of their homes in order to travel to their jobs. But it wasn't a normal day, was it? At least not for her.

Scottie took a sip from her coffee and curled her lips in disgust when she noticed that it was cold. Yet she didn't bother to make a new one. Like she hadn't bothered to change out of her clothes. Like she hadn't bothered to make her hair and make-up. It was of no use anyway.

The piece of paper with Mike´s number laid on the table beside the coffee mug. Scottie had contemplated throwing it away, but every time she curled her fingers around the paper she just couldn't do it. So now it laid there innocently as if daring her to do something to it.

Scottie would have never thought it, but the talk with Mike truly had helped her. When she had come back yesterday, for the first time since she started living here the apartment had felt like home. Her father was dead and that was something that couldn't be so easily pushed away, but he had bought her this little flat just for herself and it was something that would stay with her as long as she wanted.

She had imagined her father wandering through the hallway into the kitchen, knowing that she couldn't cook even a little bit, continued into the living room, where he probably assumed that she would sit, sipping on a glass of wine after a long day of work. He had seen this apartment and had thought of her. And that was something she could find solace in.

And Mike was right, Scottie mused. Her father would be proud of her. At the end he may have been bedridden and could barely remember her, but in his clear moments he made always sure to let her know that. Mike just made her remember these moments.

Still, you couldn't rationalize pain away. That stinging that drove through her heart every time she thought of her father. Of the man he was and the man he had been at the end. But Mike had given her hope that one day that pain would turn bitter-sweet instead.

But there were still things she had to take care of. The distribution of her father´s possession and his funeral had to be organized. Scottie knew that there were some distant relatives, which she had seen maybe thrice in her whole life, to whom her father had bequeathed some of the things he knew she wouldn't have a purpose for. There wasn't much left anyway.

With shaking hands Scottie took her landline telephone.

She wasn't ready for the day.

* * *

"I thought it wouldn't take you so much time," Mike commented without looking up from the briefs he was currently going over. Katrina, who lingered on the doorway to his little office, pouted.

"How did you know it was me?" the blonde woman asked as she made her way to the front of Mike´s desk. Mike read the last sentence on the page and looked up. Today Katrina wore a white blouse and a black pencil skirt which gave off this 'I´m a business woman and you better respect me' vibe. The accompanying black high-heels only highlighted her slender legs and the various golden accessories – earrings, bracelets and necklace – added just enough colour to the outfit that it didn't appear prude. Her lips were painted in a decent red, her blond hair hung in waves over her shoulder and her green eyes pierced him with curiosity.

Mike and Katrina had both recognized on the first day they started working here that they were the only competition for each other. While Katrina may not have his eidetic memory she still was a legal genius and possessed the cunning that Mike was lacking. All the other associates weren't worth their notice and so they had struck a deal on their first week: They would both help each other and one day have their own names on the wall. In the beginning it had just been a Non-Aggression-Pact, but over the years it had turned into a solid friendship. They challenged each other and weren't afraid to call each other out on their bullshit. Mike had no doubt that Katrina was the next in line to become Senior Associate and he would use the clout he had to help her make it happen anyway.

"I guessed," Mike replied. Katrina heaved herself on his desk and crossed her legs so that Mike had no way of escaping.

"Spill," she commanded.

"I don't know what you mean," Mike said in mock-innocence which only made Katrina narrow her eyes at him.

"You know exactly what I mean, Mr. Wunderkind," she shot back.

"Wow, you really are curious when you have to resort to that name," Mike laughed at her. "But I guess I will indulge your curiosity."

"I´ve expected nothing less of you," Katrina replied benevolently like she was praising a small child who just had seen the error of his ways. "Now tell me: Did you do the dirty?"

"No!" Mike´s eyes nearly bulged out. "It was only our second date, if you count the day before when I saved him from being thrown out of the restaurant."

"I don't see the problem," Katrina commented. "I slept with François after knowing him for only one hour." Mike gave her his best 'are you serious' glare.

"He was a French tourist you picked up from Times Square," he said. "And you only slept with him because you have a thing for French."

"French dirty talk is the best dirty talk," Katrina replied. "And I can clearly remember that it was you who slept with his friend Marcel!"

"It definitely wasn't because I get off of French," Mike shot back, but Katrina just grinned at him.

"I was his 'le plus grand amour'," she said wistfully. "He was burning with 'passion semblable à celle de mille soleils'. 'J'ai toujours rêvé de rencontrer une femme comme toi,' he said to me. Isn´t that beautiful?" Mike just gaped at her.

"How do you remember that shit?" he asked incredulously.

"You´re just jealous you weren't praised for your beauty," Katrina replied. "Didn't Marcel tell you: 'je n'ai jamais vu une telle beauté de toute ma vie' as well?" Mike made a gagging noise.

"But you won´t distract me any longer," Katrina continued. "So just tell me everything!"

"It was great!" Mike said. "Harvey – he just knows so much? I have the feeling that with him there´s finally someone who gets me completely, you know? He doesn't look at me like I´m some weird firm mascot like Cadbury does. He takes everything I say serious. I don´t even notice time passing when I´m with him." Katrina just stared at him.

"Wow," she said after a while. "That was so much cornier than anything François ever said to me. You really are in love, aren´t you?"

"I don't know," Mike shrugged. Was he in love? He couldn't really answer that. "I´d like to see where this goes."

"Now I just have to tell him that I cut off his balls and feed it to his opposing council if he dares to break your heart," Katrina announced and walked out of his office.

"Wait, Katrina, you aren't really gonna do…" Mike shouted and ran after her.

* * *

"Harvey," Donna greeted him as he entered the floor of PH.

"Were you standing there the whole morning waiting for me?" Harvey asked and Donna just looked at him like he was an especially nerve-grating child.

"I have your mobile sending me a message when you enter the building," his secretary answered. "GPS is such a fine thing."

"Of course you have," Harvey replied incredulously. "I could list several laws and by-laws you´re violating with that. And now that you´ve told me there´s nothing that prevents me simply switch it off."

"Please," Donna laughed. "You don't even know how to change your ringtone; no snowball´s chance in hell that you´ll find the setting for GPS." Harvey wanted to retort something, but he couldn't think of something. As always Donna was right. Her smirk told him that she knew it as well. "But there actually is a reason why I ambushed you at the elevators. Jessica wants to see you." Harvey stopped in his tracks and turned to his secretary.

"Why does she want to see me?" he demanded to know. Donna just shrugged with her shoulders.

"I don't know," she confessed. "Have you been naughty?" Harvey shuddered.

"Please, don't say that word ever again," he said.

"Got it. I´ll put it on the same list as 'moisture', 'mankini' and 'duckface'," she quipped, putting particular stress on each of the three words. Harvey just gave her his best glare, which didn't really impress her.

"Better not let Jessica wait," she reminded him. Harvey sighed and turned around. Better see what he could do for Jessica before the woman came looking for him.


	4. God Has No Reception

Jessica looked as imposing and regal as always.

Harvey truly believed that the woman had a stylist stashed in her wardrobe, because no single human being could come to work that put together every day while simultaneously making it look so effortlessly.

Today Jessica wore a white dress that went into stark contrast to her dark skin colour. It made her look exotic while she still retained an aura of sophistication. The dress was very tightfitting, but not so that it looked cheap. Her nails were coloured in the same white tone as where the bracelets and earrings she wore. Jessica´s black hair hung down straight without a single wave. The lack of volume accented her dark brown eyes and high cheekbones. When Harvey entered her office she indicated for him to sit down on one of the couches that stood there for clients.

Not that there were many – clients, that is, Harvey mused. Together with Daniel Hardman Jessica ran the day-to-day work of Pearson Hardman and thus only clients of great importance or with enough money warranted her attention.

"Harvey," Jessica greeted him. Harvey returned the greeting with a respectful nod. Jessica was one of the few persons he had healthy respect for. The woman was intelligent, cunning and ruthless and Harvey had no doubt that she was able to crush his career with minimal effort. You didn't become the first black woman in such a high position by being nice and playing by rules old, white men had set up.

But Harvey also knew that Jessica rewarded loyalty and defended those she had taken under her wing with the ferocity of a mother lioness defending her cubs. And seeing that Harvey had no intention of ever betraying the woman that had given him the life he was currently leading, he had no problem with being her 'attack dog' as he heard some of the other Partners refer to him. _As if it was an insult_ , Harvey scoffed.

"What can I do for you, Jessica?" Harvey asked the Managing Partner.

"Actually, there are two things I called you here for," Jessica replied. "Seth Rogers is leaving the firm. I want you to have his office. See it as…gift for making it to Senior Partner."

"The corner office?" Harvey lit up. He had always eyed that office with desire. It was spacious, had two window fronts and he already had several pieces of furniture lined up that he knew exactly where he would place them. The only obstacle until now had been Seth Rogers who couldn't be swayed to agree to switch the office with Harvey. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, Harvey, I am," Jessica replied with her lips curled in a small smile. "You can move in by the end of the week."

"That´s pretty fast," Harvey said reluctantly. There was no need to let Jessica know how desperately he wanted that office.

"Really, Harvey?" Jessica just raised one of her perfectly made eyebrows at him. "I know how desperately you wanted that office since the moment you saw it the first time. Desire is very difficult to hide after all." Harvey decided to not dignify that with an answer at all.

"What was the second thing you called me for?" he chose to ask instead.

"That´s something that involves more than just you," Jessica answered. Right in this moment Harvey saw Louis walking up to Jessica´s office door and he shot her a disbelieving look.

"Louis?" he mouthed at her. Jessica just shushed him with a gesture of his hand.

"Jessica, I´m here," Louis said in his terrible nasal voice. Harvey wondered how the man could even stand to hear himself. Obviously Louis wasn't that enthused that Harvey was here as well if the dark looks he sent in the other man´s direction were any indication to go by.

"Louis," Jessica said pleasantly, completely ignoring the tension in the room that was so thick that you could cut it with a butter knife. "Glad you could come." As if there had been a choice when the Managing Partner demanded your presence. Bewildered Louis sat down – as far from Harvey as possible, for which Harvey was quite thankful – and folded his hand in his lap.

"Now that you´re both here we can cut straight to the issue," Jessica started. "I need both of you to take over some of Dana Scott´s caseload." Stunned silence.

"Scottie´s caseload?" Harvey repeated disbelievingly. Jessica just nodded.

"Of course I´ll shoulder that responsibility," Louis replied and if Harvey was immature – which he wasn't, even if Donna had a different opinion – he would have made some gagging noise faced with such an obvious display of ass-kissing.

"But wouldn't that cut into your mudbathing time?" he chose to mock Louis instead. Jessica just gave him a warning look.

"What happened with Scottie?" Harvey asked with a bad feeling. It couldn't be coincidence that Scottie hadn't come to work after the way he had ditched her yesterday? Harvey knew that he could have found a better way to break things off with Scottie, but when she started to insult Mike and insinuate that Harvey only used him for sexual pleasure, he had seen red. He had witnessed the vast intellect Mike possessed and he couldn't let someone disrespect such a wonderful thing.

But Harvey knew Scottie and he knew that she was stronger than that. She wouldn't let something minor like this to influence her life. She was too professional for that. It was more likely that she had already been planning her revenge on him the moment she had left his office. So Harvey could disregard the events of yesterday.

"Scottie has family issues to take care of," Jessica answered his question. "She should be back with us by the end of the week. Most of her clients don't need direct involvement, but there are some cases that we can´t allow to go without supervision for that time."

"How do we spilt the cases?" Louis asked with unholy glee in his eyes. He probably thought that this was his chance of outrivalling Scottie while she wasn't here to oppose him, but Harvey wasn't so sure. Louis may have a keen legal mind and a deep understanding for financial issues – not that Harvey would ever admit this out loud, not even under torture – but when it came to human interaction – charming clients, making them believe that they were the centre of the universe, coaxing them into agreeing to do what you wanted – he was the worst of them all. Harvey and Scottie were master manipulators; Louis definitely wasn't. And that was the reason why Scottie would become Senior Partner before him.

"Her you go," Jessica said and handed each of them a folder. "Read it, learn it, don´t screw it up so much that I have to get involved."

"I think that slogan goes different," Harvey said and Jessica just gave him the – what he had dubbed – long suffering 'what did I do to deserve dealing with him on a daily basis' look. It was one Jessica often wore.

Still grinning, Harvey left Jessica´s office.

* * *

Scottie sat at her kitchen table, her hands around an empty coffee mug.

Over the whole morning she had done nothing but making phone calls. First to Jessica, who was surprisingly understanding of her situation and even offered her the whole week to take care of the situation. It wasn't something Scottie had expected from the older woman. This was a cutthroat world and missing one day could see you pushed aside for someone new, better and more ambitious.

But to be honest, she needed that time out. Away from constantly being alarmed, always looking behind one´s back lest there was someone to plunge a knife into it; away from the long and lonely nights at the office and away from people that could see right through her when she wanted nothing less. Scottie knew that she was in no form to fight highly demanding legal battles that could earn of cost them millions of Dollars. How could she care about the petty problems of people who had too much and wanted still more with her father´s death always in the back of her mind, reminding her of how pathetic those 'powerful' people truly were?

No, Scottie thought, there wasn't anything she wanted less than going to work.

The second call had been the most difficult to make. Scottie hadn't talked to her mother for years. The last time she had seen the woman was at her Harvard graduation and that hadn't ended well. What had her mother thought would happen when she suddenly turned up after she had abandoned Scottie and her father with never giving a reason to exactly why? Did she expect Scottie to leap into her arms the moment she saw her?

They had screamed – or rather Scottie had screamed at her mother, while her father had tried to defuse the situation and her mother had countered every of her accusation with cold remarks – until Scottie had finally run out of the room, straight into the arms of Harvey.

Her grip around the telephone became tighter and tighter with every busy tone that she heard.

"Mum?"

"Dana?" It was always Dana with her mother. Because 'Dana' was proper. It meant demure, catholic boarding school, beauty and housewife. Not 'Scottie' – never – because that meant tomboy, soccer and jumping into puddles and dirtying the careful selected clothes.

"Why are you calling, dear?" Her mother had never been a part of her life, yet she insisted on using those endearments just to create an illusion of familiarity and trust – both things her mother didn't have and didn't deserve.

"It´s about Dad…" Scottie began.

"What about Sean?" Her mother didn't even let her finish. Another thing that Scottie had long given up to correct. "Does he need money? I´m always willing to lend him some, but really, he should have invested better, then he wouldn't even need to worry about it…"

"He´s dead," Scottie shouted just to make her mother shut up. "He´s dead, so he doesn't need your stupid money!" Her breath was haggard and she could feel the tears forming in her eyes. She hated her mother for that. For still having such an impact on her emotions, for making her feel like a little girl again. She hated her mother for forcing her to shout it out like that.

"Dead?" At least Scottie´s mother had the decency to sound ashamed. "Sean is dead?"

"He died yesterday," Scottie confirmed.

"I see," was her mother´s only reply. "When will the funeral be held?"

"I don´t know," Scottie answered. "I just called to inform you. Do you even plan to attend the funeral?"

"Why wouldn't I come to Sean´s funeral?" _Because you didn't come to my birthdays? Because you didn't come to my first school day? To my first soccer game? To my High School graduation? To any of dad´s birthdays either?_ Scottie wanted to say but she held back. There was no use in arguing with her mother and she was too exhausted to put up any fight. Should her mother assume whatever she wanted, Scottie didn't care.

"I don't know," she answered diplomatically. "I´ll call again when I´ve set a date. Bye." And before her mother could reply something, Scottie had already hung up. Maybe it was cowardly and immature, but right now she didn't care. She didn't have the emotional capacity to deal with the minefield that was the relationship with her mother.

The telephone rang again but Scottie ignored it. She needed to call her dad´s executor, but that could wait a few hours. Instead Scottie laid down on her couch and closed her eyes.

Maybe sleep would help her escape her life for just a little bit.

* * *

Mike and Katrina were standing in the lobby of the building in which Cadbury & Wakefield had their headquarters with Mike leaning against a marble column, looking at his watch from time to time, while Katrina walked back and forth between his position and the glass front that separated the lobby from the street.

"Why isn´t Harold already here?" she asked annoyed after she had finished another round. "We told him the exact time and he still manages to screw it up!" She threw her hands in the air to further emphasize her point.

"I´m sure he´s already on his way and will be here any second," Mike reassured the blonde woman that had become dangerously agitated. And an agitated Katrina was never a pleasure to be around.

"Why do we even care about him?" she asked.

"You ask that every time," Mike replied evenly.

"And you explain it every time, so that I won't eviscerate him on sight," Katrina shot back without missing a beat.

"Because Harold would be trampled to death by those over-ambitious mini-sharks in the bullpen without us looking out for him?" Mike answered her question.

"Ah, now I remember," Katrina said and Mike snorted. "It´s your 'caring'. Shouldn't have forgotten that I asked the person with the most pro bono cases in the whole of Manhattan."

"While I have the highest pro bono percentage in Cadbury & Wakefield I´m pretty sure that there are people who do nothing but pro bono cases, so your point would be inaccurate," Mike interjected. Katrina just rolled her eyes at him. It was in this moment that a haggard looking Harold exited the elevator.

"Mike! Katrina!" he exclaimed, relief washing over his face.

"What took you so long?" Katrina asked the panting blonde.

"Angeline," Harold answered and both Katrina and Mike winched. Angeline was another associate that had a huge crush on Harold – the same Harold who couldn't go through a whole conversation without being reduced into a sputtering mess. And from what Mike had seen Angeline was very brash in her advances on Harold. Added to the fact that she was weirdly obsessive of Harold (Mike had seen her desktop background: A whole collage of different picture of Harold) and he could only imagine how terrified Harold must be of the other female.

"I had to hide in the filing room until I was sure that she had left," Harold whispered to them with wide eyes. "I was so terrified."

"Maybe you should hide again," Katrina advised. "Because she´s coming right now!" She pointed to the staircase where they could see the red-haired associate coming.

"Behind the column!" Mike hissed and dragged Harold behind the pillar right in time as Amanda reached them.

"Hello Mike," she greeted him, then colder: "Katrina." Mike could guess why Angeline disliked Katrina that much. Maybe it was because the other woman spend so much time with Harold and thus was unwanted competition? The thought made Mike smile. If there was one thing that Katrina certainly wouldn't do then it was to start something with Harold Gunderson. She tolerated the other man most of the time and even genuinely liked him sometimes, but she would never look at him like that. But Mike somehow doubted that Angeline would see it like that.

"Have you seen Harold anywhere?" Angeline asked.

"No," Mike answered. "We haven't seen him since we left the office. What do you need him for?"

"I wanted to ask him out, to watch 50 Shades of Grey with me," Angeline replied. "Today´s a special couple showing." Mike laid a hand on Katrina´s shoulder, because he just knew that his friend was dying to say something insulting.

"Tomorrow´s another day."

"I guess you´re right, Mike." Angeline´s face fell. "But tomorrow I won´t miss him. I shall prevail!" And with head held high she left the lobby.

"You can come out now, Harold," Katrina said and the timid blonde slowly tip-toed around the column.

"Thank you," Harold said and to Mike he just looked so pitiful, how he stood there with wide eyes, blonde curls and chubby face, thanking them for sparing him from human interaction.

"Now, let´s go," Katrina said impatiently. "If I don´t get something to eat very soon I´ll kill someone."

"You heard the lady, Harold," Mike joked and Harold nodded at him with serious expression.

"I heard there´s a new Korean just around the corner," he suggested. "I haven't tried it, though. What if they use nuts? I´m allergic to nuts." His gaze became panicked again, but Mike and Katrina resolutely shoved him out of the lobby.

"New York health regulation clearly state that they have to list every ingredient they use in their menu," Mike put Harold´s mind at ease.

"And should you die because of an allergic shock we´ll have at least enough to shut the place down and put the owner into prison," Katrina added unhelpfully and Mike glowered at her.

"But it won´t come to that!" he said loudly and confident.

* * *

In the end Mike was right. The restaurant was a proper establishment and Harold didn't die because of an allergic reaction to nuts some negligent cook had put into his food. Katrina got the number of the guy who had waited their table and Mike would bet his whole salary of a month that over the course of the next week he would be regaled with tales of Korean sexual prowess – things he didn't really wanted to know if he wasn't the one experiencing them.

"Why do I never get any numbers from hot women?" Harold moaned in disappointment. Katrina just gave him her best 'are you serious' look which turned into a 'this ball´s in your court' look when her gaze bore into Mike´s.

'Betrayer!' Mike mouthed at her, but Katrina just gave him a cheeky grin.

"You just have to work on your self-confidence and then you´ll get numbers," Mike encouraged Harold.

"But how do I get confidence?" Harold said and Mike had to remember that Harold may be a keen mind when it came to law, but not so much when it had to do with social issues.

"Maybe stop hiding from Angeline?" Katrina suggested. "If you can stand up to her then you should also be able to ask some strangers for their numbers." Harold looked at Mike.

"What she said," was Mike´s response.

"I guess," Harold sighed. "It´s just…I don´t want to hurt her feelings. What if she´ll hate me?"

"Oh, she definitely will," Katrina replied. Mike wanted to say something, but Katrina made some very clear gestures that he was not to interfere. "She will passionately hate you at first. But sooner or later she will meet another man and then you´ll be nothing more than a faint memory." Katrina paused. "See it like that: What is crueller? Saying 'no' to her once or leading her on for months?"

"Leading her on," Harold answered. Mike was about to add his piece of wisdom as well when he felt his mobile vibrate in his pocket. He took it out and read the message on the screen.

"Sorry, I have to go," he said to his friends. "I´m needed somewhere else."

"Alright," Katrina said. "See you tomorrow?" Mike nodded.

"Bye, Harold."

"By, Mike."

So while Katrina and Harold continued their way, Mike turned around and walked into the opposite direction, the message he had just received still in mind.

 _Do you have time to talk? – Dana_

* * *

 **To alleviate some fears that I can imagine some people might have: This story won´t turn into Mike/Scottie and neither will a weird Mike/Harvey/Scottie threesome happen. Nope, this is 100% Marvey from the start until the end.**

 **I also noticed that Marvey interaction is severly lacking. I try to change that over the course of the next few chapters.**


	5. In These Streets I Lay You To Rest

Scottie never would have thought that her father´s death would garner so much attention. Her father had never been lonely, but his whole attentiveness had been on raising her, so any friends had only second priority. And yet, somehow the telephone wouldn't stop ringing with people she and her father once had known giving her their condolences.

She didn't even know how they got the news of her father´s dead. Scottie certainly hadn't told them, but she had a certain suspicion who it could have been. Her mother had never been one to keep anything to herself. And the worst part: Most of the people calling hadn't really known her father. They just called because it was polite and proper to express your condolences to the poor, grieving daughter, not matter if said daughter wanted to hear their empty words.

So Scottie feigned gratitude for every of those vultures, circling her and just waiting for the next juicy bit of gossip they could tell their friends in their coffee circles. But there came a moment when she just couldn't take any more 'I´m so sorry for your loss'. She knew very well what the death of her father meant, there was no need to spell it out for her every damn call.

Again her apartment felt like a prison. The underlying sense of home was still there, but she hadn't left the flat since yesterday evening and she just needed to go out. She needed to leave the whole grieving business behind and just breath in fresh air just to remember that she was still alive and that life continued on.

The piece of paper on her table caught her attention again. Scottie´s hand hovered over it as she decided if she should use it. Did she really want to call Mike, a complete stranger, just to talk? What if he didn't want to? And did she? Yet, Scottie felt like she would explode if she couldn't just speak to someone. As if the emotion with her needed to get out, lest she never would regain any semblance of peace in her heart.

And there really wasn't anyone else she could talk to? Because anyone she knew wouldn't hesitate to use her weakness against her. Maybe not Harvey, but Scottie didn't really want to talk to him after what had transpired between them. Her contemplations drove again home the point that her whole life only consisted of her job. Until now it had served her well, but now she recognised the inherent weakness of such an approach on life. When she needed it the most there was no one she could trust.

No one but a stranger who had seen her at her weakest moment and hadn't hesitated to help her. Scottie didn't really believe in fate or such nonsense, but what were the chances that she would meet Mike right at this moment and that he would decide to help her? One in a million? And should she really squander such a chance?

Decision made Scottie stood up and rummaged through the drawers of her dresser. She recalled that somewhere within its depths there must be an old mobile she had discarded long ago. Her hand grasped a brick-like form and she pulled out the old phone. Pushing the button the screen lit up and Scottie typed in her message.

 _Do you have time to talk? – Dana_

Mike stood at the street corner where Dana had said they should meet.

To be honest, he hadn't really expected her to use his number. Dana had looked like someone who valued her independence and had cultivated an image of a strong woman who needed no one to help her. So he had doubted if she would ever need or want his help. But that doubt had been laid to rest now.

Not that Mike would judge her for it. He knew that he was strong and intelligent, yet even he would have shattered if there hadn't been his friends helping him through the hard times that came after his parent´s death. Needing help was nothing you should be ashamed of.

"Mike." He turned around and saw Dana standing there. She wore a white coat and black trousers with high-heels in the same colour. Her black hair hung loosely over her shoulder and had been tousled by the wind that periodically blew through the streets.

"You´re here," she added as if she hadn't really believed that he would come.

"I promised, didn't I," Mike said and smiled at her. Dana reciprocated the gesture, if a little bit timid. They walked along the street for a while without speaking.

"I feel so stupid for doing this," Dana confessed after a while as they waited at a red light. "You probably have better things to do than listening to the problems of a stranger."

"But you aren't a stranger, are you?" Mike replied. "After all this is already our second meeting. And do not all relationships start out that way? With two strangers meeting?" The light changed to green and they continued walking. "Besides, sometimes a stranger´s advice can give you a new perspective on your problems, a perspective people you know may not even mention in fear of upsetting you."

"You sound like you swallowed a guidebook," Dana mocked him, but there was no malice in her voice.

"I do read very much," was Mike´s answer. There had been a time when his grandmother hadn't been very well – psychological speaking – because everything around her became too much for her to handle. Mike had read every book that gave life advice in order to be able to help his grandmother. Most of it had been useless drivel that even he as thirteen-years-old could refute, but there were a few advices that had helped not only his grandmother but also himself. But with his eidetic memory he still remembered every single word.

"It´s just," Dana started and she seemed to struggle with what to say. "I don´t think that I can talk with anyone else about it. They wouldn't understand. They can´t."

"I just had to go out," she continued. "My apartment felt like it was suffocating me."

"I know that feeling," Mike replied. "It was the same when my parents died. It´s the grief that seems to encase everything; that seeps off every pore. I remember when I couldn't stand staying in our house because I felt like I could never be happy in there. Outside it was sunny, colourful and vibrant and every time I walked through the door I had the feeling as if everything suddenly became so muted – so supressed." Dana just nodded.

"Tell me the happiest memory you have of your father," Mike prompted suddenly.

"Why that?" Dana asked doubtfully.

"Because it helps," Mike replied. "At least it did for me. It distracted me from thinking about the fact that they were dead now." Dana was silent for a while.

"There is one thing," she said.

"It´s the first thing that comes to my mind when I think of my father," Scottie started to explain. "It´s not the happiest memory, but it´s the most prominent one." She didn't know why she had decided to follow Mike´s advice. Maybe it was because he looked at her so honest and open. When she looked into his blue eyes she saw no hidden agendas, no secret motives. He just looked at her like if he really wanted nothing more than to help her. And for Scottie, who lived in a world where nothing was given freely and everything had a hidden motive, it was something novel. It removed a pressure from her shoulders she didn't knew had laid atop her until now. Maybe she could let down her guard just a little bit.

Besides, what where the chances of someone out of her professional life and Mike ever meeting? There was no way that this would ever happen. No one would ever know what she told Mike.

"It was at the vacation home we always travelled to during the holydays," she continued. "It was a cabin near the Rocky Mountains with nothing but forest around it. I loved it there, because it was just nature; nothing artificial, nothing constructed. Everything was so untouched and pure.

And one holyday when we came back for our annual two-week-vacation there was the big anthill at the edge of the clearing where the cabin stood. I still remember how I wanted nothing more than to leave and never come back, because I was just so disgusted. But my father would have none of it and dragged me to the anthill. I cried because I didn't want to go where those abhorrent creatures were.

'Look,' my father said and he pointed at all those ants which were busy hauling dead animals and plants back to their hives. 'They clean up the forest. Imagine if there weren´t any ants around. There would be nobody to take care of the forest and everything would just rot and stink. Even if they are only small they have a very important duty.' And I remember how stupid I felt after that. I mean, I loved the forest and if the ants helped it staying healthy then why was I disgusted by them? For the rest of our stay there I brought then one slice of apple every day." Scottie smiled as she remembered that particular holiday and how sad she had been when the next year the anthill had vanished.

With every word Scottie spoke she felt lighter and slowly she started to realize that her father may have gone, but those happy memories would stay with her forever. And to tell the truth, in the end there hadn't been much left of the father Scottie had loved so much. For her it had been like slowly watching how her father vanishing bit by bit. Remembering those happy instances in her life allowed her to admit that she was somehow glad that her father no longer had to suffer. And maybe this confession would help her to come out stronger of this than she had been before.

"Your father sounded like a great man," Mike commented.

"He was," Scottie said. "Tell me about your parents." Mike indicated her to sit down on a bench they were currently passing by and he sat down beside her.

"My parents were somehow crazy…"

Mike started. "On weekends the first thing my mother would cook was breakfast, no matter what time we stood up. When we woke up at 6am we would eat breakfast and if we woke up at 3pm it would be breakfast as well.

And one week a month would be dedicated to another country. My mother would exclusively cook food of said country and my father would buy traditional wedding clothes and they would renew their marriage vows in our garden in the chosen country´s traditional ceremony. And I always had to research the country we chose and do a presentation about it." Mike smiled when he remembered all the crazy shenanigans he and his parents had come up in that particular week.

Their book shelves were filled with books about so many countries and civilisations and Mike had read them all. His favourite had been Ancient Egypt, because there had been so much to research, so much interesting food and the wedding ceremony had been so exotic with traditional Egypt clothing and their marriage vows that involved so many gods and rituals.

"Wow," Dana breathed out. "That sounds pretty awesome."

"It certainly was," Mike replied. "But I don't think what you do with the people you love matters, but simply that you do something. If there´s one thing that my parent´s death taught me, then that you should never take your time with them for granted."

"Amen to that," Dana exclaimed. For a while none of them said something, instead choosing to observe the people that were passing them by on the sidewalk. Each of them held a story of its own and Mike wondered if others would ever hear them.

"Did you at least have time to say goodbye to your father?" Mike asked. "I never had the chance to tell my parents." He swallowed down the lump that had formed in his throat. That was something Mike still regretted even today: That he never had had the chance to talk to his parents one last time, to tell them all those things that had hung unspoken between them, taken for granted but never spoken out loud.

And then all of a sudden his parents were dead and he couldn't tell his mother that he loved her new haircut or his father that his new bike he had bought for Mike was the most awesome thing ever. Little things that hadn't meant much then but became so much more when there was no one you could tell them to anymore.

"Yes, I had," Dana answered. "It wasn't as if everything happened suddenly. I had time to prepare myself – at least I thought I had, but you can never prepare for something like that, do you?" She scoffed. Mike didn't answer that question. There was no need for that. They both knew how ridiculous that notion was.

"Have you ever thought how likely it was that we two would meet?" Dana asked the next question. "I mean, what were the chances of that happening? That my father would die on this day? That I would leave my flat at the exact time I did, walking exactly where I would meet you? And what was the chance of you walking by those stairs in the exact moment I was sitting there?" Mike chuckled.

"I have long given up searching for answers to those particular questions," he answered truthfully. "I already underwent this whole process the first time something like this happened. You just have to swim with the flow."

"My colleague would have a fit," Dana mused. "He´s very keen on having control over everything. His whole reputation depends on it. I could just imagine how he would handle a situation riddled with so much happenstances." She snorted. "And he has ridiculous hair. Always slicked back. Like he emptied a whole bottle of gel over it every morning." Now Mike had to laugh as well.

"That sounds ridiculous," he said. "And pretty vain."

"Oh, he is," Scottie commented. "But he has the looks and intelligence to back it up…much to my dismay."

"If it wouldn't violate the girls' code, I´d ask you for his number." A short flash of panic washed over Dana´s face. "But I´m already seeing someone, so the point is pretty mood." He grinned at her and hesitantly she smiled back.

"Thank you, Mike," Dana said. "In the beginning I didn't really think that you were doing something meaningful with what you were doing, but now I recognize that it really helps me." She stood up from the bench. "But I shouldn't dally any longer, there´s still so much to organize." She struck out her hand. Standing up Mike took and shock it.

"You´re welcome," he said. "I hope we´ll see each other again. I find our talks very refreshing."

"Maybe," Dana answered and gave him one last smile before she turned around and walked in the direction where they had been coming from.

After Dana vanished around the corner, Mike sat down on the bench again and simply enjoyed the feeling of Manhattan at night. But this period of calmness shouldn't last long as his mobile began to ring after only five minutes.

"My associate is an idiot," was the first thing Harvey said after Mike took the call.

"Hello to you, too," Mike replied laughing. "And while I have never met your associate, I completely agree with your statement. Of course, compared to me, the majority of the population are idiots."

"I walked right into that one, didn't I?" Harvey groaned and Mike imagined the man sitting in his condo – Harvey had described his place of living very thoroughly during their last time - with his tie loose, his jacket lying somewhere on the couch and a glass of scotch in his hand.

"What did he do?" Mike asked instead.

"I ordered him to search for precedents for my current case and the idiot, instead of doing it by himself, used an extern," Harvey compared. Mike winced in sympathy. Using externs was never a good idea. There were some good services, but most of them only researched superficial; after all it wasn't their case and they got paid no matter what.

"What happened?" Mike wanted to know.

"He gave them my office as delivery address," Harvey answered annoyed. "And now I can´t see my own desk because the whole damn room is filled with boxes full of files." Even though Mike had never seen Harvey´s office he could just imagine the other man´s face in that particular situation and he couldn't help but start laughing.

"Yeah, yeah," Harvey said dryly. "Revel in my misery."

"Aw, don´t be so dramatic," Mike cooed. "I´m sure the first thing you do tomorrow is to order the poor associate to carry every single box into the filing room that is the furthest away from your office."

"You already know me too well," Harvey laughed.

"I know exactly the right thing to cheer you up," Mike said.

"And what would that be?" Harvey demanded to know.

"The fact that in Freudian psychology the act of witnessing your parents having sex is called 'Urszenentrauma' and people who experience it are said to develop a talent for crime novel writing." A few beats of silence. Then:

"How the hell is that supposed to cheer me up?" Harvey exclaimed incredulously.

"I don't know," Mike answered truthfully. "It´s just that I read it today and I simply had to tell it to someone. Now you´ll never forget it."

"An idea. Resilient, highly contagious. Once an idea's taken hold in the brain it's almost impossible to eradicate. A person can cover it up, ignore it- but it stays there," Harvey quoted.

"Inception?" Mike replied, raising an eyebrow even though Harvey couldn't see it. "Fitting, I suppose."

"Hey, that movie was pure brilliance," Harvey defended himself. "I still don´t know if the last scene was real or just a dream."

"It´s the wedding ring, Harvey," Mike explained. "In every dream sequence he´s wearing it, in the last scene he isn´t. Therefore he isn´t dreaming."

"You just answered one of the questions that haunted me since I watched that movie," Harvey said. "How did you know that?"

"I´m a very observant person of keen intellect," Mike joked. "Or I simply googled it."

"You shouldn't have added the last one," Harvey advised him. "It leaves you bereft of any aura of mystery. But speaking of important questions: Do you have tomorrow evening free?" His last words took on a hopeful note.

"Yes, I have," Mike answered and a warm feeling coiled in his stomach.

"Great," Harvey replied. "I pick you up at your office."

"Alright," Mike said. "Then till tomorrow."

"See you," Harvey said and ended the phone call. Mike just sat there with a big grin on his face. Tomorrow would be great!

* * *

 **So, it isn´t much Marvey, but it´s a beginning. Next chapter they will have a date *swoons***

 **On a different and more serious note: I´ll be away over the weekend (family vacation) and afterwards I´m moving to another city, so I won´t continue the insane daily update shedule I somehow managed as university is staring as well.**

 **How long do you want this fic to be, though? I could end it within the next three chapters or I could try to make it even longer. I have some ideas I could incorporate.**


	6. Interlude: Women Rule The World

**The Woman That Knows**

Being awesome was not as easy as it looked, Donna mused as she stepped out of the elevator onto the floors of PH. It required a certain skillset that only few people possessed and fewer people even knew how to use it correctly.

For example, when she walked by the reception desk she had to wait for the exact moment to nod at Mary and Esther. It was a clear and concise nod that implied respect but still showed that Donna was higher up in the hierarchy of PH. Nevertheless, it made Mary and Esther happy that they were shown the prober respect for their work – after all they were _the_ front line and the first one at whom an angry client would rage at – and in return Donna was the first one they called when the really interesting things happened. The same went for the security guys downstairs. It showed that in most cases the proper amount of respect was the only thing you needed to network.

Of course, fear was also a useful tool to be had, Donna thought as she saw Kyle standing at her cubicle. The last time he entered it and even dared to sit down on her chair he regretted dearly. A call to Patricia, who was married to Paul, who knew the owners of every hotdog stand around the building and suddenly every hotdog Kyle ordered was made so that it would fall apart the moment he bit in it. Donna had never seen a dry-cleaning bill that high.

Kyle never entered her cubicle again.

"Kyle," Donna called like she was just naming a piece of furniture. "Do you really have time to anxiously await for my arrival when you should clear Harvey´s office from all those files you ordered?" She ditched her jacket – Prada, paid for by Harvey as thank you for the last time she saved his ass with her organisation skills – and threw it at him. Kyle caught it and hung it up at the hat stand. She had trained him so well.

Donna was about to sit down when she noticed it.

"Wait," she commanded and held up her hand. "Is that coffee made from sustainable coffee bones with fat-reduced milk froth, chocolate crisps and a pinch of cinnamon from 'Mademoiselle Titeux' where you have to wait at least half-an-hour to even order?" She narrowed her eyes at Kyle. "You want me to put in a good word for you with Harvey so that you won´t have to clear his whole office."

"Please," Kyle begged and if he wasn't such an arrogant douchebag Donna would have thought of his attempt at puppy eyes as adorable instead of simply pathetic.

"You´re the personal associate of Harvey Specter," she hissed at the man. "Cease this begging and act like it!" She tool the coffee and took a sip. It was truly as good as Norma had hinted at several times during their last get-together. Kyle´s face lit up.

"Does that mean that you´ll help me?" he asked, his eyes shining with hope. Donna looked at Kyle, then at the coffee in her hand. He did stand in line over 30 minutes for it. He was a Harvard-douchebag. The coffee was liquid ecstasy. Kyle grated on her nerves. Cinnamon. She didn't like his hair. Cinnamon. She sighed.

"I may mention to him that his punishment may have been a little bit too harsh," she conceded and a wide grin overtook Kyle´s face.

"But!" Donna interrupted what was probably the start of some victory dance. "That´ll be another one at a time of my choosing."

"Of course," Kyle agreed eagerly. Donna shushed him away and finally sat down on her chair. While she booted her computer she went through all the things she had to do today. It wasn´t really that much and Donna hoped that something exciting would happen, lest she would die of boredom. Louis hadn't had any neurotic episode for a few days, it was time for a new meltdown, where Donna could just lay back and enjoy until she had to prevent Harvey from throwing the bald man out of one of the many windows around here.

She could also go and talk to Rachel, Donna thought. The paralegal was one of the few people that she could tolerate and have intelligent conversations with. Currently Rachel was fretting about the prospect of taking the LSATs, but Donna knew that in the end she would take and pass them.

"Why do I never see you working?" Donna looked up to see Harvey standing in front of her cubicle, the usual smirk on his face.

"Because I´m already finished when you deign your lazy ass to come to the office?" Donna shot back.

"Touché," Harvey replied. He was about to enter his office when Donna noticed it.

"Wait!" she exclaimed and pulled Harvey´s tie towards her.

"That´s lavender," Donna said as she examined that particular piece of clothing while Harvey´s upper part of the body hung awkwardly over her desk in order to evade being strangled by Donna´s iron-tight grip around the tie.

"You only wear lavender when you got or will get laid by Scottie," Donna continued and Harvey squirmed uncomfortably. "You didn't get laid yesterday and I´m pretty sure you won´t get laid today evening, at least not by Scottie. You wouldn't wear this tie for a one-night stand, so it´s something more serious." Donna thought for a moment. "It´s the guy you´re constantly texting with!"

"H-h-how do you know that?!" Harvey sputtered.

"You never give your number to one-night stands," Donna explained. "And yesterday you muttered 'Mike would have done it by himself' when Kyle confessed that he used an extern for the work you gave him. You´re having a date!" Harvey looked at her for a moment and then just shook his head.

"You´re scary, you know that?" Harvey commented. Donna just raised her eyebrow at him.

"Am I right or am I right?" she just shot back.

"Why that avid interest in my love life?" Harvey asked instead. "Maybe because yours is currently lacking?"

"Nice try, Harvey," Donna taunted, "but your deflection won´t work on me. So, spill or I´ll sick Louis on you!"

"You wouldn't!" Harvey exclaimed in mock-betrayal. "Not even you are that cruel!"

"Does this majestic face look like I wouldn't resort to Louis?" Donna just said and gestured to her own face which was set in a mask of pure indifference. Harvey seemed to weigh his choices – which were non-existent, because Donna knew that he wouldn't hold back something like that. He always told her. This whole foreplay was just for show; to satisfy his primal manly instincts of showing his alphahood and whatsoever before he caved in. She wasn't a psychologist, after all.

"I may or may not have a date today," Harvey confessed. "And it may or may not be with an individual named Mike."

"And do you or do you not want to bang this Mike until both of you are so sore that you can´t even leave your bed?" Donna shot back without missing a beat. Harvey just shot her his brightest lawyer smile.

"A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell," he smirked and walked through the glass doors into his office.

"Then I´m glad that you aren't one!" Donna shouted after him before the doors closed. Turning back to her computer screen she couldn't help but smile. That was going to be interesting, she just knew it.

 **The Woman That Rules**

There were many things that people – especially those working at Pearson Hardman – did not know about the woman that presided over them all. For many Jessica Pearson was the epitome of graceful cunning and ruthlessness, a stealthy tigress amongst her prey. Jessica had done much to cultivate that image and nobody would ever imagine the Ice Queen of PH to do something as plebeian as she was doing now.

"I don't care if I already watched for over five hours," Jessica murmured as the annoying pop-up appeared on her screen. Today was one of the rare days where she found herself with nothing to do. There was nothing of importance for her to handle and everything else had already been delegated to people who were much better suited for such tasks than Jessica was – meaning that they weren't paid as much.

Jessica could count days where she had nothing to do on one hand and still have fingers left, so she wasted no time and continued her TV-show on her laptop. Of course, this was Pearson Hardman, so it didn't take long for her to be disrupted.

"Jessica," Louis panted as he threw her doors open and walked right into her office.

"Louis, what can I do for you?" Jessica replied evenly. _Besides wrangling your neck?_ She added mentally. She couldn't fathom why some people wanted children so desperately. If they were anything like Harvey and Louis she would rather gauge out her eyes with one of Donna´s stilettos.

"Harvey´s refusing to work with me," Louis complained. "Even though the client demanded him on the case explicitly." Jessica could practically see how much that particular truth irked the bald man. His face was in an unhealthy-looking shade of red and the vein on his temple was throbbing dangerously.

"Did Harvey give any reason as to why he refused to take on this case?" Jessica wanted to know and she fixed Louis with her sternest gaze. She knew Louis and he wasn't about to conveniently forget some facts or twist them to his liking so that people would take his side and she wouldn't interfere in another of Louis' and Harvey´s childish spats if she didn't got all the facts straight.

"No, he didn't," Louis replied. Jessica just looked at him expectantly, but it seemed that Louis had nothing more to say.

"Thank you, Louis, for bringing this to my attention," Jessica said. "I´ll take care of this." For Jessica this was enough of a dismissal, but Louis didn't seem to get it.

"Wait, why aren't you going to Harvey right now and tell him that he should work?"

"Louis," Jessica said warningly. "How I run my firm is no business of you. Be assured that I´ll take care of Harvey." Louis made an unrecognizable sound, turned on his heels and walked out of her office. When he was around the corner, Jessica exhaled deeply. What had she done in her previous lives to deserve this suffering? It must have been something truly deplorable if the Powers That Be decided to saddle her with Harvey and Louis.

Already angry because her show had been interrupted, Jessica stood up and exited her office. She walked along the busy hallways of PH and couldn't help but smile a little bit as she watched all the people – her workers and her clients – busying around. This was hers, she had built this up when her predecessors and Daniel had been about to run the firm into the ground and she would fight until her dying breath to keep it.

"Donna," Jessica said pleasantly to Harvey´s secretary. The woman may think that she 'Knew Everything', but Jessica had played The Game before Donna had even considered becoming an executive assistant and she could outmanoeuvre the redhead with no effort at all. But Jessica had long learned that workers who were allowed to keep their illusions – Donna´s omniscience, Harvey´s invincibility or Louis' financial genius – were happy workers and made the firm more money, so she just let them believe whatever they wanted.

"Jessica," Donna replied with a respectful nod. "You´re here because Harvey won´t work with Louis."

"I am," she answered clipped.

"He´s in," Donna answered Jessica´s unasked question and gesticulated at the door. "And for you he´s always free." Jessica grinned.

"As he should," she replied and without waiting for Donna to say something else she entered Harvey´s office. Said man sat behind his desk and looked up from his cellphone when he noticed her entering.

"Harvey," Jessica began and she knew that Harvey could interpret her neutral voice as what it was: _I´m pissed off, but not so much as to blow a fuse, but I will if you step one toe out of line_. Ah, the wonders of non-verbal conversations.

"Jessica, what´s the matter?" Harvey grinned at her. Looking like Jessica could see why so many woman – and men, come on, Harvey didn't really believe that she wouldn't know? – fell for him. He had a certain charm to him. But sadly Jessica was immune, so she just gave him her most unimpressed expression.

"I think you know what the matter is, Harvey," Jessica replied and set down on his table. Maintaining height differences was always a good way to show who was the higher up and Harvey needed such reminder as often as possible. Harvey´s face fell into a mask of annoyance.

"What did Louis say?" he wanted to know.

"That you refused working with a client even though he explicitly demanded that you were on the case," Jessica repeated what Louis had said to her.

"That rat!" Harvey exclaimed, his fist clenched. "I did nothing of that sort! The only thing I did was refusing an invitation to a diner which Pascal was very understanding about." Jessica rubbed her temples. No she had to go to Louis and yell at him for bending facts so much that they were practically broken through. All the while her show was still waiting for her.

"And what was this reason that you cancelled an appointment with a new multi-billion client?" Jessica asked Harvey and she prayed that it was a good one, because otherwise heads would roll.

"I have a date," Harvey answered, but with none of his usual bravado. Jessica noticed that he had given the answer hesitantly – shy even – and if she wasn't that mad she would have commented on that.

"You blew off a client because some random date?" she asked incredulously, not believing what she had heard. Harvey couldn't be serious! "I thought you were smart enough not to allow your love life interfere with your work!"

"It´s not some 'random' date," Harvey hissed through his clenched jaw. "And I don´t let my love life interfere with my work. If Louis hadn't said anything you wouldn't even know that anything happened at all." He paused for a moment. "And like I said, Pascal was very understanding. I even earned some bonus points for not 'being some cold lawyer-machine'." He grinned at her humourlessly.

"I hope that she´s worth it," Jessica replied.

"He definitely is," Harvey said, his trademark smirk plastered on his face again.

"Then I´m happy for you," Jessica smiled at Harvey, whose jaw dropped.

"You aren't…"

"Shocked that you´re dating a man?" Jessica finished for him. "Please, if you want to hide something from me you have to do better. I knew since Thomas; you tie was always crooked after you had a 'meeting' with him." She patted Harvey on the head and walked out of the office.

"Donna, when Harvey regains his sanity, do tell him that I want the Berger merger finished today," she told the secretary.

"Yes," Donna replied and added in a whisper: "Your majesty."

It was great to be Jessica Pearson.

 **The Woman That Observes**

She may not be as beautiful as Donna or as awe-inspiring as Jessica Pearson, but Norma had some qualities of her own. Most workers at PH knew that she existed – probably because Louis had mentioned her in one of his tirades at his Dictaphone – but nearly none of them could describe her or would even recognize her on the hallways.

People overlooked her. Their gaze wandered over her, but they never focused, too intent on doing whatever work they thought was important at the moment. But their weakness was Norma´s strength: She knew things. Not like Donna, who had a whole networks of 'contacts' woven throughout Manhattan, but rather because she knew how to listen and how to look without being recognized.

Norma knew that Jack Soloff was in contact with Daniel Hardman because they had met in a little bar pretty far from PH. They probably thought that no one of importance would ever venture there, because all those extravagant hipster-bars where in the opposite direction, but they were wrong. Since she had started working for PH Norma had been going to that particular bar and so she had witnessed those two men animatedly talking to each other.

Unlike Donna, though, Norma had no need to broadcast her whole knowledge to others in order to make herself appear more important. No, Norma could keep secrets and use them at the opportune moment for her. She kept her most precious secrets for years even, in the back of her mind waiting for the right time to be unleashed. And if it never came to that, than she wouldn't spill a tear over it.

And Norma knew that Harvey Specter was seeing someone. A male someone. He had hidden in the copy room and called his 'Mike' in order to ask him on a date, probably thinking that no one would disturb or discover him there, but Norma had been at another copier behind a shelf of files and had been able to listen to his every word.

Harvey Specter had left the room thinking that he had been alone. He hadn't recognized Norma, who had patiently stocked her papers together and left the room shortly after him. She had filed that particular secret in her mind. Maybe she could use it in the near future.

"Norma, here you are," Louis said as he walked up to her desk. "I´ve been searching for you for ages. As my secretary you should be wherever I need you." Norma didn't answer. With Louis it would just be a waste of breath.

"I need the number of the private detective," Louis commanded. "Harvey´s hiding something and I´ll discover what it is. Scottie is out for some time and if I can get something on Harvey, there´ll be nothing to prevent my ascension to Senior Partnership." Norma just gave him the number. Louis would never learn. But she would be there in his corner when this would inevitably backfire on him.

After all, she had always been there.


	7. Make Me Burn Like Fire

**AN:** Originally, half of this chapter consisted of an explicit sex scene, which I have removed as this site is pretty strict when it comes to such things. I marked the exact part where it would have been and if you want to read it, then just go to AO3 where you can find the story and me under the same name as here.

* * *

Mike wrung his hands nervously and looked at the clock hanging in the corner of his office. Only a few minutes left and then Harvey would be here. He couldn't really say why he was so nervous, though. Harvey and he got along great, so why was he feeling like he was about to face a congress inquiry?

"You look like you´re about to have a heart-attack," Katrina commented from where she was standing in the doorway. "Is the prospect of another date with Harvey really that daunting? I could go for you, if you´re too afraid." Mike just glared at her, which only made Katrina´s smirk grow wider.

"I hope you´re wearing your 'get laid' underwear," she continued her teasing.

"I don't have a 'get laid' underwear!" Mike protested, his ears burning red.

"You totally have," Katrina replied. "You told me once, remember, when we both were drinking after our victory over Salesburry. It´s a black Calvin Klein brief with white waistband and if that isn´t the most porn thing you´ve ever heard of than I eat a broom." Mike wanted to just jump out of the window and end this mortification.

"I don't wear that," he lied weakly and Katrina just continued grinning.

"You so want to get laid by _Harvey Specter_ ," she said in her singsong voice. "At least it´s your third date, so it´s socially acceptable." Mike snorted.

"As if I would ever use the dating advice coming from some bad romcom," he shot back grinning. It was in this moment that his intercom crackled to live.

"Mike, a Harvey Specter´s here waiting for you."

"Thanks, Dave," Mike replied. "Tell him, I´ll be down shortly."

"Will do," Dave said and hung up.

"It seems that our time has come to an end, Mrs. Bennett," Mike said in mock-serious voice as he stood up and took his jacket from which it was hanging over his chair.

"A pleasure as always," Katrina replied and held out her hand. Mike betokened her with a kiss on the hand and then made his way out of his office towards the elevators.

"Have fun in your Calvin Kleins!" Katrina shouted after him. Mike just flipped her his finger.

* * *

"So, you´re here for Mike?" the security guard behind the reception asked Harvey as he waited for Mike to come down. Harvey raised his eyebrows at the guard, who seemed to be way too invested in Mike´s personal life.

"I am," he just replied to the guard – "Dave" according to his name tag. The man just harrumphed and looked at him with suspicion.

"What is it to you?" Harvey asked. Dave just looked at him like he was an insect to be dissected.

"Mike is the nicest guy in this building," Dave explained. "He´s nice to every one of us – the cleaning ladies, the night porter, the maintenance crew and in return we watch out for him."

"Wait, wait," Harvey interrupted him. "Is this the 'you treat my boy nice or else' speech that you´re giving me?"

"Well, there´s no one else to do it," Dave just shrugged. "And none of us want Mike hurt. So you better tread carefully. We may not be some fancy lawyer, but we don't need to be in order to make your life miserable if you hurt Mike." Harvey was too stunned by that – and that was saying something, him, the Harvey Specter made speechless by a security guard – but it was in this moment that the elevator doors opened and Mike walked out.

"Harvey," he said grinning. "Dave." He nodded at the guard who nodded back. "Ready to go?"

"Of course," Harvey replied.

"Have a great time," Dave said and when Mike had turned around he gave Harvey one warning glare before he had to go back to his actual job.

"You´re security guard is crazy," Harvey spluttered to Mike when they were walking along the sidewalk.

"Do you mean Dave?" Mike asked confused. "He´s the gentlest man I know. He helps out at his daughter´s kindergarten whenever he can. He´s great with kids."

"He threatened me!" Harvey exclaimed. "He and the whole maintenance staff of the building if I was to hurt you." Mike just sniggered.

"They can be a little bit overprotective," he admitted. "But they seem to like you at least."

"They threatened me!" Harvey repeated incredulously.

"Yeah," Mike shrugged. "But it was only Dave. If they really disliked you, Marina and her cleaning ladies would have been there as well." Harvey just shook his head. "Where are we going, by the way?"

"Ray has parked a few blocks away," Harvey answered. Mike´s eyes widened.

"You have your own personal driver?" he exclaimed disbelievingly. "Who the hell are you, Harvey Specter."

"He´s not my personal driver," Harvey grumbled. "And he´s taking us to our destination, which I´ll not disclose to you." They turned around the corner in the street where Ray was waiting for them. When he noticed Harvey and Mike he winked at them and then opened the door for Mike to take a seat.

"I feel like a woman in the 30s," Mike joked. "Where´s my fur coat?"

"I don't think a fur coat would survive Manhattan," Harvey replied as he took the other seat.

"Guess you´re right," Mike agreed. "Nice to meet you, Ray." Ray just dipped his head.

"I´ve heard much of you, Mr Ross," the Indian replied as he started the car and began to drive them to their destination.

"Only good things, I hope," Mike asked. "And call me Mike, Mr Ross makes me feel so old."

"As you wish, Mike," Ray smiled. "What CD do you want, Harvey?" Harvey considered the question for a while before he answered.

"Number six."

"Ah, an excellent choice," Ray declared and soon the soothing sounds of Frank Sinatra sounded through the car on low volume.

"I wouldn't have pegged you for a Sinatra," Mike said without judgment in his voice.

"The man was a genius," Harvey declared and Mike just nodded.

"So," he began, a sly grin slowly taking over his face. "You still won´t tell me where we are going."

"Nope," Harvey replied, popping the 'p' to further emphasize his point. "But fear not, you definitely won´t be disappointed."

"I have no fear like that," Mike said. They continued the rest of the way talking about their respective cases and the strategies they planned to employ. Harvey felt completely at ease with telling Mike about the big surprise he had planned for Tanner on his current case. He would never have told things like that to Scottie, fearing that she would use it to her own advantage, but he could trust Mike to never abuse his trust like that.

And it was fun as well. Mike instinctively knew what he was going for and showed him how he could improve his strategy and he did the same when Mike told him of his current case. Harvey felt intellectually stimulated and he couldn't believe how satisfying that alone was.

Not that Scottie had been stupid, but being with her Harvey had always to hold back. He could never give everything, show all, because at the end of the day, Scottie and he weren't in a relationship but just using each other. That wasn't a real foundation for trust to be built upon.

"We´re there," Ray interrupted them.

"That´s a cinema," Mike commented.

"I know," Harvey grinned. "And today they show all the original Star Trek movies." Mike´s eyes widened.

"All of them?" he asked.

"All of them," Harvey confirmed.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Mike demanded to know and scrambled to get out of his seat belts. Ray just smirked at Harvey, who just smirked back at the other man.

"Have fun!" Ray shouted after them when they had left the car. Mike just laughed out loud.

"He´s the second person to shout that after me today," he said when he noticed Harvey´s quizzically look. "But come on, we have to get the best seats!"

"Glad that you´re so enthusiastic," Harvey smirked.

"That´s the best idea ever," Mike exclaimed. "It´s just a pity for you, because I´ll probably ignore you the whole time."

* * *

Mike´s prediction didn't become true. Halfway through the second movie, Harvey and his hand somehow interlocked when they were both grasped for popcorn – pretty cliché, didn't Mike know it. But when he looked up and saw the look in Harvey´s eyes he just couldn't resist: He moved forward and pressed his lips against Harvey's, who reciprocated the gesture more than enthusiastically.

Harvey tasted of old whiskey, popcorn and something uniquely Harvey and Mike couldn't get enough of it. Mike didn't know how long they were kissing, but they were interrupted, though, when someone tabbed Mike on his shoulder. The blonde turned around only to see a very disgruntled looking employee of the cinema looking at him.

"We had complaints of our guests concerning your indecent behaviour and would like to ask you to leave this establishment," the man said sourly and Mike could feel his cheeks burning up. Something like that hadn't happened to him since he had been a horny sixteen-years-old. Burning with shame he stood up, Harvey behind him and followed the man to the exit where he gave them one last annoyed look before he closed the door behind them.

A few seconds of silence, then Harvey began to laugh and just wouldn't stop.

"That wasn't funny!" Mike hissed. "It was mortifying!"

"Aw, come on, Mike," Harvey teased. "It was definitely worth being thrown out, don't you think?" This, Mike admitted, was certainly true. He couldn't deny that kissing Harvey had been awesome. Then Mike slowly stalked next to Harvey, positioning his mouth right next to the other man´s ear and whispered: "Maybe we could continue in my apartment?" He could feel a shudder running down Harvey´s spine and his breath hitching.

"I definitely have no objections against that," he replied and this time it was Mike who couldn't supress that spike of arousal surging through his body.

* * *

Ray definitely deserved a salary increase for what he did for Harvey. The whole way to Mike´s apartment, Harvey and Mike traded kisses and groped at each other like they were horny teenagers and not grown-up men and reputable lawyers. But neither of them cared, too caught up in the heat of the moment so that they didn't even noticed the passage of time until Ray had delivered them to the doorstep of Mike´s apartment building.

* * *

 **[Explicit smut which you can read on my AO3-profile.]**

* * *

"That was awesome," Mike exclaimed after a while and bumped his fist into the air.

"I slept with a child," Harvey just snorted. Mike turned his head, so that he could look at Harvey.

"You loved it," he proclaimed.

"Yeah, I guess I did," Harvey grinned.

"Are you staying the night?" Mike asked. "No problem if you don't." Well that was a lie, but he would leave Harvey the opportunity to just take his stuff and leave. He didn't want to push too far too early. Harvey, though, just shook his head.

"No," he replied. "I´m fine where I am." And to these words they both drifted into a dreamless sleep.


	8. The Day After Tomorrow

**AN:** So another chapter, yeah! I had a long train ride and therefore time to write this.

IMPORTANT: I´ll have several tests at the beginning of February, the last one taking place on Feb 9th. Don´t expect any updates until then and be surprised if there should be any nonetheless.

 **AN 2:** Again some M-Rated stuff which I removed. Head over to AO3, if you want to read it.

* * *

The door clicked open and gave entrance into a light-flooded hallway.

Slowly Scottie entered, careful to not disturb anything with rash movements. Coming back to the house where she had grown up like that wasn't something she had imagined would ever happen. If it was like any other time her father would already stand in the hallway, in his ugly grandpa sweater that she so often had tried to talk him out of, with a bright smile on his face and his eyes glinting with is usual fatherly mirth. He would take her suitcase and carry it upstairs in her old bedroom, even though she protested, saying that she could carry it herself.

Today there was no one waiting for her in the hallway. Scottie had to carry the suitcase by herself. Even though the sun was shining outside and birds were chirping happily, nothing of that happy atmosphere reached the hallway and the rooms behind.

Scottie wrapped her arms around herself. It was cold in the house, colder than usual. Someone had been here and turned off the heating. Maybe one of the neighbours. She didn't really care. Today would be the last time she would be spending here. She already had contacted a realtor who would sell the house as soon as the funeral was over.

She didn't need the house without her father in it. Loneliness could also be found in Manhattan.

Scottie made her way into the living room. The sun was shining through the wide window front and illuminated the whole room in a cold light. At least to Scottie it felt like that. A book was laying on the coffee table; its pages open. Carefully Scottie picked it up. Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.

 _There´s always joy to be found in the a small and lonely boy finding friends and happiness in a world full of magic and wonders,_ her father had answered when she had asked him why he was reading a children´s book. Then he had bought her all seven books for her thirty-third birthday.

 _He´ll never read how Dumbledore dies,_ Scottie thought and somehow that thought brought the tears back. She sat down on the armchair that had always been her father´s favourite place to enjoy his books and let the sobs wash over her.

Being here made her father´s death even more tangible. Even though she had known of her father´s day for already a few days, sometimes she could pretend – _push away_ – that nothing had happened. But sitting here in her father´s chair pushed right through that she was now alone in this world. That her father truly was gone and would never come back.

And all the things they had never done, because Scottie had always thought that they would have all the time in the world. They never discussed Harry Potter, because her father had yet to finish the books. They never visited Berlin, the remnants of the Wall, a monument that had stood as symbol of a conflict that had shaped much of her father´s generation lives. He would never toast to her when her name would inevitable make its way up the wall.

 _Never_. Such an ugly word. Scottie had once read a poem about 'almost'. But 'almost' at least meant that you still had the chance to make it. 'Never' did not give that opportunity. 'Never' was cold, unyielding and unflinching, no matter the desperation that it faced.

Never, ever, almost.

Scottie ran her hand through her hair. The funeral would take place the day after tomorrow. The invitations had already been sent out. Even to her fellow lawyers at Pearson Hardman. Courtesy demanded her to invite even those that she would rather not have at her father´s funeral.

But she knew that her father wouldn't want any fuss to be made because of his funeral. She would just say her goodbyes before everyone else could arrive.

Scottie picked up her phone. There was one person that she hadn't sent an invitation. Mainly because she hadn't got any address. But a number she did have. And so she began typing.

* * *

It was the messaging tone of his mobile that woke Mike up.

Groggily he lifted his head and turned around to grab the damn thing on his nightstand. Next to him Harvey mumbled in his sleep, but didn't wake up.

So, he and Harvey. Mike supposed they were a thing now. Yesterday had been breath-taking, in more than one way. Mike had never been with a person that he had felt so connected to. He felt like Harvey and he complemented each other perfectly. Like he had finally found the puzzle piece that he didn't knew he was missing.

Well, and the sex was awesome, too, so nothing to complain here.

Looking at Harvey sleeping, Mike found that the man looked much younger and more relaxed when he wasn´t awake. Like he was free pf all sorrows and burdens that darkened his life while he was awake.

That someone as guarded as Harvey would allow Mike to see him in such an unprotected state, filled him with awe and profound respect. It was a sing of trust and Mike felt honoured that Harvey would bestow such onto him. Maybe Harvey wouldn't be averse to take things further as Mike thought he would be at the beginning.

Mike just knew that he wanted to see where this thing with Harvey would lead him. He wanted to experience the highest highs and the deepest lows with the man lying there in his rumbled sheets. It definitely would be an adventure.

Finally, Mike had managed to unlock his phone. There was one new message.

 _ **From:**_ _Dana_

 _My dad´s funeral´s the day after tomorrow._

 _Would you come? As closure?_

Mike didn't need to think long.

 _ **To:**_ _Dana_

 _Of course, I come._

 _Where?_

The swoshing sound that signalled the message´s departure had not even faded out when he received the address. Mike confirmed again and was about to put his phone back on the nightstand when a hand wound around his midriff.

"Awake, already?" Mike mumbled. Harvey only made a confirming sound before he began to lace Mike´s shoulders with kisses. It didn't seem as if early morning deterred the older lawyer from administering very effective shows of affection.

"Yesterday was brilliant," Harvey whispered in his ear from behind, eliciting a small shudder from Mike. "And we just blew each other. Imagine what else we could do." Yeah, Mike could imagine that really well. Mike´s mind was made for things like imagining that. His dick also agreed rather enthusiastically with Harvey.

Harvey´s kisses, meanwhile, became more insistent, sucking and biting also taking place.

* * *

 **[M-Rated stuff. Available on AO3]**

* * *

After Mike had returned the favour to Harvey – albeit it had taken him a little bit longer, but he was rewarded with an expression of ecstasy on the other man´s face and wasn´t that a kind of power as well, to make another person come undone underneath your fingers? – they both went in search of their clothing, which was carelessly thrown all over the room. After all, they both had to go to work.

"Are you free on Saturday?" Harvey asked as they stood in front of Mike´s apartment building. Mike shook his head.

"No," he replied. "I´m invited to a funeral. A friend´s father." He answered the unasked question. Harvey just nodded understandingly.

"Just call me when you´re back," he said and Mike nodded.

"Will do."

* * *

For a short moment – a very, very short moment – Harvey was tempted to simply not come into work. Some bullshit-excuse would do. But Donna would know. She always knew. Harvey would just delay the inevitable. So he just steeled himself and marched towards his office.

He would not let that terrible – awesome, terrific, glad-to-have-her-in-his-corner, effective – woman have any effect on him. No, he was Harvey Specter, goddamn best closer this city had ever seen and he would not be browbeaten by even the meanest red-haired secretary.

"Somebody got the booty tonight," said she-demon wolf-whistled the moment she had set her gaze on him. Harvey just rolled his eyes, what totally ruined the suave image he was going for.

"A gentleman doesn´t kiss and tell," was Harvey´s reply.

"Wait, wait," Donna interrupted him and looked him over carefully. "You didn't get the whole booty. You just…traded blow jobs?" Harvey´s eyes bulged and his jaw dropped.

"How I know that?" Donna continued. "You didn't walk awkwardly enough to have been the catcher last night – remember the day after you took off with Terence? – but neither have you made any comments about your sexual prowess which usually indicates that you were the one dealing out orgasms." Her eyes widened. "Wow, Mike truly must be a god in bed when that´s enough to make you come in here like you just stamped Tanner into the ground."

"You know what?" Harvey shot back, more embarrassed than actually angry. "You´re way to invested in my sex life. How about getting one of your own?" Donna just rolled her eyes.

"Now on to more serious matters," she said. "You got an invitation to the funeral of Scottie´s father on Saturday. As well as Louis, Jessica and a few of the other partners." Harvey´s mood sobered up immediately.

"Did you accept?" he asked.

"I waited for your approval," Donna replied and looked him in the eyes.

"Would be the first time," Harvey mumbled.

"Harvey, I know that the topic of dead fathers is a sensitive one for you." He hated how Donna´s gaze softened as she spoke to him. He didn't need pity. Never needed it. "So, yes, I did wait for your approval."

"Just accept the invitation," Harvey ordered his secretary tiredly. Without bothering to wait for a reply, he moved onwards into his office.

* * *

Katrina was waiting for Mike when he entered the floor where is office was situated. More like she was ambushing him, Mike mused, when the blonde grabbed him by his tie and pulled him into his office. She pushed him down into his chair and leaned against his desk, her arms folded.

"A good morning to you as well, Katrina," Mike piped up. Katrina didn't even bother to reply. She just kept looking at him with her best Ice Queen™-Gaze which never lost his effect on him and made him feel very uncomfortable right now.

"Where´s Harold?" Mike tried a different tactic, but it seems that – like a hound that got wind of its prey – Katrina would not be distracted from her goal.

"Mike," she started in her sickly-sweet voice that she usually only used on old, white and horny oil barons from the South. "Tell me all about your date last night."

"Well," Mike began, "it was actually pretty great. We went to a Star Trek marathon, but we got thrown out because of public indecency." Katrina´s eyes bulged.

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed. "What did you do?"

"We may have gone a little bit overboard with the kissing," Mike admitted bashfully. Katrina just snorted.

"So, and what happened then?" Katrina prodded further.

"What do you think happened?" Mike gave her a teasing smile.

"I think that someone did the dirty," Katrina shot back. "And can´t wait to do it again." Mike just gave her his most enigmatic smile and didn't comment further. Katrina flopped down from his desk and laid her arm on his shoulder.

"I´m happy for you," she said with a reassuring smile.

"I´m really sorry to destroy this atmosphere of camaraderie we have here," Mike began, "but I have to cancel our Saturday Late Night Bar Tour."

"Why?" Katrina asked.

"I´ve been invited to the funeral of a friend´s father," Mike answered. "I just got the message earlier today."

"I think that can be counted as reasonable excuse," Katrina assured him. "Now, though, I got to go. I think Harold´s finally manned up and is about to confront Angeline."

"Now, that´s something I gotta have to see."

* * *

The ringing of the doorbell was what tore Scottie from her slumber. She must have dozed off while she sat in her father´s chair. Groggily she stood up, ran her fingers through her hair to make it look at least a little bit presentable and walked towards the door.

 _Who the hell would that be?_ She asked herself. The moment she opened the door, though, she wished that she had just stayed inside.

"Mother," Scottie said curtly.

Elisbeth Scott was a woman of pedigree. She came from a long line of industrials and had been given everything in her life on a golden spoon until she decided to run away with Scottie´s father, who had been so in love with the woman that he even took her last name. Yet their love hadn't been enough and soon Elisbeth found herself wishing for the luxurious life style she had led before which led to a teary-eyed four-year-old girl standing on the threshold for three weeks, waiting for her mouther, until even that little girl had to realize that her mother would not come back.

"Dana," her mother replied. Her once black hair had lightened up considerably, with grey strands every now and then. Her face was penetrated by countless wrinkles that hadn´t been there the last time Scottie had seen the woman. Yet, her brown eyes still shone with the same determination and strength like Scottie remembered from her childhood and she still held herself high and mighty.

"What are you doing here?" Scottie demanded to know. She had no time for her mother´s games. She had no time for their usual fights. She was tired and she just wanted to let everything behind.

"Won´t you invite me in at least?" her mother said in the same voice that always made Scottie feel like a little girl again.

"Answer my question," Scottie replied. Elisbeth just sighed.

"I´m here for the funeral," she answered.

"So, that´s what it takes to make you come back?" Scottie laughed. An ugly and empty sound. "Dad dies and you come back to his funeral."

"Dana, do we have to have this talk on your doorstep? Let´s take this inside," her mother implored, but Scottie would have none of it.

"How is André?" she sneered. "How are Katherine and Annabeth?" The family her mother had built after she had left Scottie and her dad. André, heir to another industrial empire, and their two darling little daughters, bluebloods as fine as you could make them on the East Coast.

"They didn't come," her mother replied tensely. "In fact, I´ve told no one that I´d come here."

"Ashamed of me and dad?"

"No, because it doesn´t concern them," her mother said. "I know that you´ll never forgive me for what I have done and I don´t demand you to do, but I loved Dean once as well and I won´t disrespect him by not attending his funeral. That is something I can still do." With one last look at Scottie, Elisbeth turned around and walked back to her Lexus; chauffeur already holding open the car´s door. The engine flared up and then it drove around the corner, vanishing from Scottie´s sight.

Mentally completely exhausted from that short conversation, Scottie turned around and walked back inside.

The weekend couldn´t be over soon enough.

* * *

Mike paid the taxi driver and exited the car. As he stood on the sidewalk he looked around, taking in his surroundings. He was standing, in what seemed to be, the typical American suburb. Well-kept houses, painted in hues of yellow, lavender and white; trimmed hedges, white fences and at least two cars standing in front of each garage.

From behind a few windows he noticed some women watching him, their gazes locked on him like he was about to commit some serious crime – like pissing on the sidewalk. It seemed like there wasn't enough excitements for the Jannettes, Barbaras and Charons that they needed his arrival for new gossip.

He was lucky that he could afford living in Manhattan, Mike supposed, where you could get everything – and he meant 'male escorts for an orgy at 2am who also studied Ukrainian Literature of the 20th century'-everything – whereas here you probably got looked at weirdly when you had Pizza delivered after ten.

Tearing himself out of his contemplation of the typical American suburb, Mike made his way up the small path that was leading to the house he was going to. Mike lifted his hand and knocked. The sound echoed on the other side, then he heard the sound of shoes rustling.

The door opened.

"Hello, Dana."

"Hello, Mike."

* * *

Gazing upon the lights from Manhattan, Harvey sipped at his scotch and thought about everything that occupied his mind as of late. The City That Never Sleeps at night was truly awe-inspiring; the lights of thousand buildings and cars lightening up the night sky. It made one feel insignificant, yet also like a part of a gigantic whole.

He had tried to contact Mike, but had only reached the voicemail. Harvey hadn´t left a message, though. He found that quite desperate. It signalled that you didn't have the time to wait for the other to call back, which left said person in a position of power over you. Harvey didn't believe that Mike would see it like that, though.

He had wanted to ask the younger man if he would go with Harvey to the funeral. Dead fathers hit close at home with Harvey and he just needed Mike at his side.

That was a new development. Up until now, Harvey had been completely content with his chosen loneliness; with only Donna and Jessica as confidantes. But Mike had brought something to the surface that he had kept away for very long. The need for companionship, for understanding and love that was inherent in every human being.

If he had been the Harvey of a few months ago, such revelations would have send him spiralling. He would have tried to distance himself from Mike; would have tried to push the other man away, but right now even the notion of doing that, made the bile rise in his throat.

No. No matter what Harvey wanted, Mike was here to stay.

And Harvey was oddly satisfied with that.


	9. Trust Is Like A Mirror

The sun was shining on the day of her father´s funeral.

Her father would have liked it. 'Don´t mourn for the dead, but for those left behind' had been one of his favourite bits of wisdom and it would have elicited a small smile from him that at least Mother Nature didn't seem to mourn him.

Every now and then a small breeze would run through the trees outside and sway their leaves back and forth. Scottie could even hear some birds chirping happily, bouncing from one branch to the next while they sang their songs. They, at least, seemed to have nothing to mourn.

Scottie sat on her father´s chair, holding a hot cup of coffee as she heard Mike pounding down the stairs. She had offered him their guest room and he had happily accepted, completely drained from the long journey up here.

It was a comfortable feeling knowing that she wasn´t alone with her memories in the house. Helen from across the street probably thought that Mike was her twenty years younger lover from New York, whom she had hidden from her father and who was now comforting her in her hours of need.

The thought elicited a small smile from Scottie. Helen was a nice woman, who had always kept an eye on her when her father had been a work, but she probably was the whitest suburban wife to ever have graced American suburbs.

"There´s a pot of coffee on the stove!" Scottie called after Mike when she heard him rummaging through the kitchen cupboards.

"Thanks!" Mike called back. The next thing Scottie heard was a sound that you could reasonably describe as ecstatic moaning.

"This coffee is the greatest brew my tongue ever touched," he declared when he entered the living room. The suit from yesterday had been replaced with a loose t-shirt and sweatpants.

"It´s a special blend from Brazil," Scottie explained. "It was one of the few luxuries my father indulged in."

"Well, it´s definitely worth it," Mike agreed wholeheartedly and then took another sip from his fuming cup. "Definitely worlds better than the stuff they served at Harvard." He grimaced. "They were lucky that they never had a health inspector dropping by." Scottie chuckled.

"It´s still that bad?" she commented. "When I was at Harvard we used to bring our own coffee."

"You went to Harvard as well?" Mike asked. "I didn't know that!"

"I didn't know that you went to Harvard, too," Scottie replied. "Small world, after all." It brought home the point that Scottie and Mike didn't really know much about each other. Or at least nothing superficial. Scottie didn't know where Mike came from, but she knew how hard his parent´s death had been for him and how he had tried to work through the grief, the fear and the anger that came with it. And somehow that was worth far more than being knowledgeable about the other´s favourite movies, at least in her opinion. It was a deeper connection.

Everyone at Pearson Hardman knew that Scottie loved Legally Blonde. That didn't make them friends.

For a few moments there was silence between them as both Mike and Scottie sipped at their coffee.

"I should make myself ready," Scottie commented after a while. "We need to be at the cemetery in three hours." Mike just nodded and didn't say anything further as Scottie rushed out of the room.

* * *

Scottie stared at her reflection in the mirror and saw a stranger looking back at her.

She had pinned up her hair, only allowing a few strands to frame around her face. It accented her sharp cheekbones and made her look even more aristocratic. The last few days had left her skin pale – like porcelain – which, together with the dress she had chosen, only helped to further emphasized her paleness.

The woman in the mirror looked regal and composed. She looked like there was nothing in the world that could crack her façade. She stood above everyone around her. She was untouchable. Unchangeable. Unbreakable.

It was all a big lie.

Suddenly there was this hot, burning fury within her. This anger at the world, at herself, at her father, all flowing together and forming this ball of rage within her chest that just needed to get out. She needed to destroy something, to make something shatter like she had been shattered, just to make herself feel something different than this despair.

Without thinking, Scottie took the vase – a beautiful thing, blue with delicate patterns of pink flower pedals – and with a scream she threw it against the mirror.

It shattered. Thousands of glass shards falling to the ground, reflecting the light like diamonds, making it look like fairy dust from the fairy tales that had been told to Scottie by her father when she had been a young girl.

It was beautiful. Now she no longer had to look at herself and see the false woman starring back at her.

"Dana?" Mike exclaimed hesitantly from behind the door. "Everything alright?"

"Now it is," Scottie replied back. "Now it is." She waited for Mike to open the door, but he didn't. She let out a breath of relief. Mike probably knew how she felt, seeing as he, too, had had to go through the same thing, and could guess that she just had to do it. And that she didn't need any company, but someone who would give her space.

Everyone else would have rushed into the room and would have smothered her with compassion and pity. The poor girl who shattered the mirror because she couldn't cope with her father´s death. How horrible that would have been.

"I´m ready now," she said, more to herself than to anyone else. "I´m ready."

The mirror´s shards gleamed in the sunlight.

* * *

A great iron hate barred the entrance to the graveyard. A slight breeze ran through the trees that stood at the side of the street, their leaves swaying back and forth. Scottie looked outside the car´s window and even though the sun was shining she found the world to be grey. Lacking. Devoid.

Maybe it was because today was the day where she had to finally say her last goodbyes to her father. Scottie had never been one for farewells.

"The funeral is always the hardest," Mike said from beside her. He didn't look at her with pity, but rather with understanding that stemmed from having lived through the same ordeal by himself. "When my parents were buried the sun shone as well. Spring had just come around, the first flowers blooming, birds returning from the south." He shook his head. "It was terrible. I thought that the world didn't deserve to have any beautiful day ever again. Ah, the wrath of an eleven-year-old." He chuckled.

"The attendants are the worst," he continued. "The funeral is more for them than for the actual family. I didn't care for the funeral and neither did my parents. They were dead, after all. But people needed to go to church and stare at their coffins. Needed to unload their useless condolences on grieving relatives, so that they would feel better. And then the priest! Had the gall to preach about an almighty Lord and his son, the Saviour, to a child who just had lost his parents."

Scottie had to agree. She didn't really want the funeral at all. It was of no use to her. She needed to find closure on her own terms, not in a church-mandated social gathering disguised as remembrance for the dead. But other people needed it in order to pay her father the las respects and she wouldn't take away that from them, not even if it meant nothing to her.

"Isn´t it comforting to know that there will be a place where you can come to and find solace?" Scottie wondered out loud. "A physical remember that the people you loved did indeed exist?" Mike looked at her with a thoughtful expression.

"I wouldn't know," he admitted. "I´ve been to my parent´s grave maybe twice in my whole life. It isn´t a location I like to spend my time in."

"Then where do you go to when you want to be near them?" Scottie asked.

"My grandmother still lives in the house where I grew up," Mike replied. "My old room is on the second floor. There´s a loose floor board under which I hid a box full of pictures of me and my parents. I did it shortly after they died. I was somehow afraid that I´d forget them – that someone would come and take away all the pictures and leave me with nothing – so I took countermeasures. And whenever something big occurs in my life I come back to that room and look at these pictures. I need no gravestone to have my parents with me."

"I like that," Scottie said. Her fingers found her necklace and her grip around the pendant tightened. She inhaled. And then she breathed out. "We should go now. No need to delay it any longer." Without waiting for Mike to reply, she opened the car´s door and gracefully exited the vehicle. The gravel creaked underneath her heels as she and Mike made their way to the chapel situated in the middle of the cemetery.

They passed long lines of gravestones, inscribed with the names of hundreds of people long dead, who once had been all loved ones of people Scottie would never know. It made her feel insignificant. Who would dare to assume himself important when the perishability of human life was laid out before him? A life was just a mere flicker in eternity.

Finally, they reached the little chapel in the middle of the cemetery where most of the guests had already arrived. Some old friends of her fathers', neighbours and her co-workers from Pearson Hardman. What an illustrate company.

"Harvey, what are you doing here?" Mike exclaimed suddenly. Scottie looked up to see both Mike and Harvey starring shell-shocked at each other.

"You said you were on the funeral of a friend´s father," Harvey stated. "You cancelled our date for this."

"I didn't lie," Mike replied. "I´m right where I said I would be."

It then hit Scottie like a train. Mike – _Mike Ross_ – was the man for whom Harvey had left her. The man who was sleeping with her strongest competition in the firm. And who had conveniently appeared after Harvey had ended what he had had with her.

The man to whom she had poured out her heart. To whom she had exposed herself, made herself weak. Oh, how could she have been so oblivious – so _stupid_ and naïve?

"Dana, are you okay?" Mike asked. He looked worried and apprehensive. But now that Scottie was aware she wouldn't fall for his mask. She wouldn't be fooled again.

"Was it all fun to you?" Scottie whispered. She didn't have the strength to shout. It had all but left her. She could feel the tears starting to flow and she hated herself for it. For falling to such an obvious plot, for opening up to another person, for being weak in front of half of the Senior Partners of Pearson Hardman. "Did you have a great laugh with Harvey? 'Oh, poor Scottie, crying over her dead father. So desperate that she would cling to the next best stranger?'" She turned to Harvey, her voice raising. "And you! You´re probably already planning how you can use it all to take me out of competition!" Her voice had taken a hysterical edge the more she screamed, which only further increased the rage she felt at Mi- _Ross_ and Harvey. How dare they to reduce her into this crying mess? How _dare_ they?!

She looked Ross straight in the eyes.

"I hate you," she said, her voice as cold as ice. "For doing this to me. For ruining my father´s funeral. But most of all I hate you for making me trust you." She didn't bother waiting for any kind of reaction, instead turning on her heels and walking away as fast as she could without making it look like she was running away.

"Dana, wait!" She heard Ross shouting behind her. She didn't heed him. Like on autopilot she started the car and drove away, as fast as possible, while the tears started to flow again.

* * *

Mike started at Dana´s retreating figure – one arm still stretched out – and wondered why everything had gone wrong. He was aware of the people around him staring at him – judging him, making up their own version of events – but right now he couldn't care less what those people were thinking about him.

She hadn't even given him the chance to defend himself, to explain to her that he would never misuse her trust like that. That he truly had wanted nothing more than to be her friend because he knew how hard it was to lose the people you loved more than anything in the world.

He liked Dana – in a platonic way, as nothing more than a friend. Underneath the grief he had seen glimpses of an intelligent, strong willed and compassionate woman. She had reminded him of an older and more refined version of Katrina and if Mike had learned one thing in his life than that you never let pass by a chance at making friends with such woman.

How could he have known that she was the Scottie Harvey liked to complain about? How should he have deducted from the few bits of knowledge he had that his boyfriend was the person Dana felt most strongly about? He couldn't have.

Mike wanted to go after Dana, to explain and to apologize, but as much as he loathed it, he knew that now wasn´t the time. Not while her emotions were running high. Not when her father´s funeral was still about to take place.

"Mike?" Mike turned around to see Harvey looking at him undecipherable expression.

"Not now, Harvey," Mike replied. "There´s a funeral I have to see through."

* * *

It didn't turn into a complete catastrophe. The pastor obviously had a lot of experience and was able to gloss over Dana´s absence with much rhetorical skill. Yet, Mike couldn't help but blame himself for how the events had turned out. Her own father´s funeral and Dana couldn´t even be here because he involuntarily had hurt her so much that she couldn't stand the sight of him any longer.

She couldn't even say a last goodbye to her own father. How she must loath him. Mike would have felt the same if it had happened to him on his parent´s funeral.

"What was this?" Harvey asked him after the guests, save Jessica Pearson and a few others, were gone. "How do you even know Scottie?"

"I met her by chance," Mike replied without paying much attention. "We struck up a friendship. And I intend to make it up to her."

"You met with my biggest rival at the firm and didn't even tell me?" Harvey exclaimed and now Mike was angry.

"Yes, Harvey, I did," he shot back. "Because I have a life beside you, in which you get no say whatsoever." Her knew that it was the wrong thing to say the moment the words left his lips as Harvey´s expression completely shut down.

"How can I trust you when you consort with the enemy behind my back?" All strength left Mike when Harvey uttered those words.

"'Consort with the enemy'?" Mike repeated incredulously. "Are you even hearing yourself? This isn´t about you; it has never been. It´s between me and Dana, so stop trying to make it about yourself!" He was so angry that he had to struggle for air.

"Well," he spat, "if your trust is such a breakable thing that I can´t even befriend people you don´t approve of, maybe you should have kept it to yourself from the beginning."

* * *

"Well, Harvey, any less grace and you could give Donald Trump lessons," Jessica commented as both of them watched Mike angrily making his exit from the cemetery. Jessica had known from the beginning that Harvey was _inexperienced_ when it came to all matters of emotions, but this display was had been truly awe-inspiring…in a negative way, of course.

"I gave him the chance to explain himself," Harvey defended himself weakly. Jessica just arched her eyebrows at him. Sometimes she wondered why she had to fill in as parental figure for both Harvey and Louis.

"Harvey," she said deliberately slow so that he knew how stupid she thought he had been acting. "You just indirectly accused your very much in love with you and gay until the seventh level of Hell boyfriend that he cheated on you with an emotional instable woman, whom, as far as I can tell, he just tried to help through a very taxing phase of her live because it reminded him of the time when his own parents died."

Jessica just kept on starring Harvey straight in the eyes in order to properly convey how utterly stupid and insensitive Harvey had been and from the dawning and horrified realisation that slowly crept into his gaze she had been successful.

"Shit," he cursed. "Shit!" In his anger he kicked against a nearby stone. It must have been hurt like hell, but Harvey showed nothing.

"What should I do now?" he turned back to her, pleading desperately. Jessica suppressed a sigh. Maybe she should add a compulsory psych evaluation to their hiring practices, so that she wouldn't have to deal with full-grown man-babies the whole day with – as one of her favourite heroine would call it – 'the emotional range of a tea spoon'.

She should bring it up on the next Senior Partner meeting.

"Grovel," Jessica replied curtly. "Grovel until the floor is your second home. Grovel and pray that he is more forgiving than I´d be if I were in his shoes."

She really wasn´t paid enough for this.


	10. We Found Wonderland

The glass shattered into thousand shards as it hit the wall and yet Scottie didn't feel any better. The anger, the resentment, the grief and the bitter betrayal still lingered underneath her skin and wouldn't just come out.

No matter how much she screamed at empty air or how much glasses she broke, the emotions that wreaked havoc in her mind wouldn't lessen; wouldn't release their grip on her soul and she hated herself for being so weak – so emotional.

 _They all saw it_ , Scottie realized and if her throat wasn't so sore from already screaming so much she would have screamed even louder in anger and mortification. Jessica Pearson, Louis, Harvey, Donna, Norma…they probably all had seen the scene she had caused and were questioning her suitability as future Senior Partner.

Scottie balled her hands into fists, her nails cutting into her palms. She had worked so hard, so long, to get into the position she was now. Just for one moment of weakness – of passion, of emotion – to destroy everything? No, she wouldn't allow it _. She wouldn't allow it!_ This was her life and no one but her would destroy it!

When she travelled back to Manhattan she would don back her old persona – the ice-cold, aloof, ambitious bitch of Pearson Hardman – and never let go of it. And she would never trust again. No co-workers, no lovers and definitely no random strangers who were kind and compassionate and made her forget that she probably lost her soul along the way to the top.

Trust, Scottie thought, was for the weak.

And if there was one thing she wasn't, then it was weak.

"Dana?" Someone knocked at the door and Scottie turned around, her face distorted into a mask of fury.

"Leave!" she screamed. "Haven´t you done enough already? Just leave!"

"Please, Dana, hear me out!" Mike pleaded, but everything Scottie felt was this all-consuming rage that ran through every vein in her body. She had trusted Mike. The first time she had let a stranger in and he turned around and broke her trust like it meant nothing.

 _And I didn't even get sex out of it_ , Scottie thought and giggled hysterically. Oh, how far she had fallen.

"Dana…"

"Just LEAVE!" she shouted. Why couldn't Mike just go, so that she could hate him in peace?

"Should I call the police?" Scottie breathed out in relief. That was the voice of old Tom from across the street. Maybe he would take care of Mike, so that she didn't have to.

"No, there´s no need," she heard Mike protesting weakly.

"The lady obviously wants you to leave," Tom barked. "You better go before I call the police."

"Okay," Mike replied. Scottie could hear his steps on the gravel becoming quieter the further he walked away. When the last sound had faded away and silence descended upon her again she allowed herself to lean against the front door, slide down to the ground and just cry until no tear was spilling forth anymore.

* * *

Harvey found Mike aimlessly wandering on the street.

He beckoned Ray to slow down and pulled down the window.

"Mike!" he shouted, startling the blonde who just continued walking, ignoring Harvey completely.

"Mike!" Harvey shouted again.

"What?!" Mike snapped and turned around. "What do you want? I thought that I wasn't worth your trust anymore." That stung. Harvey hadn't meant to hurt Mike like that. It was just…he hadn't been in control of the situation, there had been too many violate variables. He could have gone on with his list, but it all boiled down to the fact that Harvey was insecure when it came to his feelings.

Mike continued walking.

"Mike, get in the car," Harvey pleaded. Mike just shook his head. That left Harvey no other choice.

"Ray, just wait for me, will you?" The Indian nodded and the moment the car halted Harvey was already out of it, sprinting on the sidewalk towards Mike.

"Mike, please, let me explain," Harvey begged.

"What is there to explain, Harvey?" Mike turned around. He looked worn out, tired, just done with the world and Harvey wanted to wrap a blanket around the younger man and hide him away in his condo, so that the world couldn't get at him anymore.

"You don't trust me," Mike continued and his voice was so full of hurt that Harvey could feel nothing but shame. He had done this. He had hurt this beautiful man.

"Mike," Harvey said the other´s name like it was salvation and for a moment the familiar warmth that usually resided behind those beautiful blue eyes returned. "I trust you. With all of my heart."

"It didn't sound like that a few hours ago," Mike sneered.

"Mike," Harvey gulped. "You have to know…when I was younger…my mother cheated on my dad." There, he said it. "He loved her with all of his heart and she slept with our neighbour the moment he went out of the house each morning. It destroyed him when he discovered it and ever since then…I´ve learned that you shouldn't trust the people you love." He had done it. Harvey had bared his deepest insecurities, his greatest fears, to Mike and now he hoped that it was enough to make the other man forgive him – to make him stay with him. _Don´t leave_.

"I´m not your mother," Mike remarked calmly.

"I know," Harvey replied and ran his hand through his slick hair like a nervous teenager on his first date. "I know that now. You´re compassionate, you love with your whole heart, you would do everything for your friends and you couldn't even hurt a fly. You´re everything she isn't and – please, Mike – I don't want to lose you like I lost her and my father. So, please…" Harvey didn't even know what he was pleading for anymore. Forgiveness? Absolution? A smile on that beautiful face?

Mike just stood there and for once Harvey couldn't read the other man´s emotion. It made him uneasy, not knowing what was to come. He had no control.

But that was what all this was about, wasn't it? With Mike Harvey didn't need any control. He could just let go, knowing that there was someone who would catch him if he fell. Someone to have his back even in the direst circumstances.

"Harvey," Mike said, all the hurt and anger in his voice faded away. "Look at me." Harvey looked up from the ground at Mike and then there were Mike´s lips on his and Mike was kissing him! Harvey held to the other man like he was the only life line in a stormy sea, like he feared to get lost forever if he ever let go of him. He kissed Mike like there was no tomorrow and tried to convey everything he was too craven to say in this one gesture.

The kiss ended and reluctantly Harvey let go of Mike.

"I forgive you," Mike said, still breathless from the kiss.

And right now everything was good.

* * *

It seemed like Scottie couldn't shake off her ghosts.

Every evening Mike would ring the bell downstairs and every single time Scottie would ignore him. She could see him from her window, looking up hopefully, but when the door wouldn't open, his face would fall until he finally turned around and walked back. A lonely figure, with hunched shoulders and hands in his jeans, walking down a lonely street until the darkness swallowed him whole.

Scottie didn't know why, but somehow the sight made her feel this strange sense of melancholy. She closed the curtain.

The past had long since passed by and no matter how much she wished, it would never come back.

It was time for Mike to learn that as well.

* * *

"Can you at least hear him out?" Scottie looked up from the papers she was currently reading and stared at Harvey, who was casually leaning on the door frame. He looked like the epitome of put-togetherness, but he couldn't fool Scottie. She saw the tense lines around his eyes and mouth, the tension in his whole body posture. He was anything but relaxed.

"Who are you talking about?" she remarked, her eyes wandering back to the dreadfully boring briefs.

"You know who," Harvey shot back. Scottie looked up again, her expression cold.

"There´s nothing to talk about," she replied resolutely, but inwardly she was seething. How dare he? How dare he coming in her and dictate her what she should do? "You and Mike had your fun with me and now life continues."

"Scottie…." Harvey started, but Scottie cut him off.

"What, Harvey?!" she snapped at the other man. "What is there left to say?" She stood up, hands on her desk, because she felt like she was about to explode. "You send your boy toy after me and I – stupid fool that I am – let him in and trusted him. I hope you two had your laughs at me, because now I´m finished with you."

"For God´s sake!" Harvey exclaimed. "Do you even hear yourself anymore? Or are you too busy wallowing in your hurt and self-pity?" Scottie´s mouth fell open. "Are you unable to listen? I didn't even know Mike knew you until the funeral. We started dating barely a month ago! And I definitely need none of my lovers if I want dirt one you. I have Vanessa for that!" And with that tirade Harvey walked out of the office, leaving behind a shell-shocked and confused Scottie.

* * *

When the door rang on this evening Scottie allowed Mike to come up.

"What changed your mind?" Mike asked as he stood in her doorway, hair wet from the rain, the very picture of desperate puppy as he looked at her with rekindled hope behind his cerulean eyes.

"You´ll have to live with that mystery for the rest of your life," Scottie replied snippy. Mike grinned ruefully and then entered her apartment. Scottie led him to her diner table where he sat down, nervously fidgeting with his fingers.

"Anything to drink?" Scottie asked. She hadn't forgotten her manners, after all. Mike just shook his head. Scottie sat down in front of him.

"So, what do you have to say?" she wanted to know.

"Honestly?" Mike laughed. "I didn't think I´d get this far. And…" He laughed again. "I have forgotten what I wanted to say!" Then he couldn't hold himself anymore and went into a full-blown laughing fit.

 _It is funny, though,_ Scottie had to admit as she supressed her own laugh, _the man with the eidetic memory forgets his apology._

After a while, the laughter abated and the atmosphere turned sober again.

"I´m here to say," Mike began, "that never – during our whole acquaintance – have I abused the trust you put in me. I know, it sounds like hollow words, but it is the truth, nevertheless."

"How can I believe these words?" Scottie whispered.

"You can´t," Mike replied. "Not if you have to ask that question. You have to ask yourself, if you still trust me enough to believe what I´m saying. And I´m saying to you that I never told anyone about the things we talked about. Not to my friends, not to my grandmother and certainly not to Harvey. They were always just between you and me."

"Then why…?" Scottie didn't need to finish the question. Mike knew what she wanted to ask.

"Because I saw someone who needed help," he replied. "I saw someone strong; someone fierce and yet also fragile and delicate. I saw someone lonely and I know how loneliness feels like, even when you´re surrounded by people. No one should feel that way." He stood up and made his way out of the room. Before he was through the door, though, he turned back again. "I´d have been happy to call you a friend." And then he was walking out, back turned towards her.

Scottie stared at the seat Mike had just vacated and remembered lonely nights, crushing emptiness and the gaping hole in her heart where her father had been. She remembered midnight talks, sharing secrets and the certainty that there was someone else who understood.

And with clarity that only came in moments like these, Scottie knew what she had to do.

"Mike!" she shouted and ran after him. "Mike!"

On the stairs Mike turned around, his brow creased in confusion.

"Mike!"

* * *

AN: I can´t believe that this story is over now. It started as comment fic and it turned into a 30k monster.

I wanted to thank everyone who commented and followed. Even though I do not always answer, I read every of your reviews and was very happy about them. You are the best! THE BEST!

I also know, I could have made this longer, but I´m not a big fan of several chapters of angst and miscommunication as plot device.


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